
\’ . ^ _ ' /. 



'r^ ✓ ^ 

'^:^, * ■< H 0 ’ ^0-^ -o 

.0^ » ' ‘ <u % 


V* 



'JS ,\ .S 

«' ao ■ c. y^Wy y 

“1^' ^ A .a’<' 

O ' ^\\V =» A. <A - 



ty £?^ 

<V ^ 0 , >.* .\ 

? , tA 

A A . 








.V.., 

,-.S''SNiv O ( '^ V ^ ^ 

^ V 0 #?/A^ -p 





X^*^, >- 

^ -. /I O 7- i<3 r , <1 , 

' A <.'=>^ -AV'a^ 
A . Am-A ° 





, c, A ^ 

, ^ ^ ^ s'' ^0 





/■■'y'A 7 . ' 


0 >, K^ A '>> A 

V c 0 ^ '^Ap "^o ^ ^ 

c^ V 



\\^‘ c»'" "<■ 'A^ \oA 





4 



I f ■ 


/ 



I » 


« 



I 



♦ 


¥ 


t 


9 


I 


i 


J 


i 




\ 


‘ ^ ' 

t 


t 


t 



t 


\ 




I 



■ I - * 




4 • 


1 



A WOMAN OF TO-DAY 






A WOMAN OF TO-DAY 



MARGARET CRAWFORD JACKSON. 

U 


EDITED BY 

JAMES CLARENCE HARVEY. 






f 

\ 





NEW YORK : 

JOHN W. LOVELL COMPANY, 
150 Worth Street, 







Copyrighted 

Margaret Crawford Jackson 


DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY 
OF 

ANDREW WILSON 

BY 

HIS DAUGHTER, 


M. C. J 



INTRODUCTION. 


In the fiction of to-day, where authors seem 
to think the heroine must needs pass through 
countless dangers, both moral and physical, 
before becoming a subject of interest to the 
public, it has occurred to me that there may 
be some who would find a pleasant relief in 
the simple story of an every-day woman, 
in rural surroundings, among well known 
friends. 

With this idea in mind, there has been no 
attempt to introduce startling situations. 

The high lights and deep shadows of life 
liave simply been suggested. 

It is the sketch, not the finished picture, 
and if eyes, that have grown weary over 
sensational vermilions and literary blues, 
shall find here an hour of rest, I am content. 

M. C. J. 


1 




PART FIRST. 



A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


“ Oh, that a song would sing itself to me, 

Out of the heart of nature, or the heart 
Of man; the child of nature, not of art. 

Fresh as the morning, salt as the salt sea. 

With just enough of bitterness to be 
A medicine to this sluggish mood and start 
The life-blood in my veins and so impart 
Healing and help in this dull lethargy.” 

Longfellow. 

It was on the second day of May, 188 - ; 
the Victoria was steaming rapidly into port. 
New York was already dimly outlined ahead, 
and it was evident to the two men, who were 
silently smoking at the rail and watching 
the outlines, as they grew clearer, that they 
would lie at the dock some hours before they 
were due. 

Finally the younger one of the two inter- 


10 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


rogated; “ You’ll have no objection to going 
up to-night, will you, Erie? ” 

“ No, Paul, there is nothing to keep me 
here, you know.” 

There was something suspiciously like a 
sigh, following the reply, but Paul Bronson 
was intent on his thoughts again and Erie, 
otherwise known as John Erie, M.D., turned 
back to his study of the sea. 

“I haven’t said much about my cousin 
Marcia, Erie, because I don’t know whether 
you’ll like her,” said Paul after a pause. 

“ I don’t know what you call ‘ much,’ Paul, 
but if ever a woman’s praises were well sung. 
Miss Hunt is that woman, and a better singer 
than Paul Bronson does not exist.” 

“Now, Erie, don’t chalt; of course I like 
Marcia ; we grew up together. Hard pull it 
was too, this time, going olf without her, but 
you see, she does not strike all people the 
same way, and I didn’t want to disappoint 
you.” 


11 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 

“ Hear him,” said Erie, apostrophizing the 
sea, then he continued, “ I am not a lady’s 
man, Paul, perhaps I don’t want what other 
people do.” 

Paul looked up at the handsome man 
beside him. A tall, strong, well-moulded 
figure, crowned with a perfect head, hair 
dark and close cut, honest eyes of dark blue, 
under a magnificent brow, and a good straight 
nose. His soft moustache curled slightly, 
and his chin was so delicately rounded, yet 
so firm, that many a woman had at one time 
or another fallen in love with this feature of 
his face alone. 

Quiet, reserved man as he was, he never 
seemed aware of any interest he might have 
created in the opposite sex. Altogether he 
was a man to whom his superiors in office 
naturally turned with a loving dependence, 
sure that his clear head, keen intellectual per- 
ceptions and executive ability were always 
ready to lighten their heavy load of hard 


12 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


work and responsibility. While the younger 
men always respected him, a few, like Paul, 
loved him with a love so tender and unselfish 
that it was like that of a woman. He had 
been two years in the Vienna hosifitals and 
absorbed in hard work. He had sought to 
find, in the love for his profession, a certain 
compensation for the absence of all home ties 
in his life. 

His father was dead and his step-mother 
and two half-sisters were uncongenial. He 
was virtually homeless, save for a faculty he 
had of investing his quarters, wherever they 
might be, with an atmosphere peculiarly his 
own. 

AVhen Paul had sought him out, three 
months before, Erie had not allowed himself 
to think much of what his life might be, 
after his return to New York. There was no 
definite prospect ahead and he did not wish 
to think of the inevitable loneliness, which 
would, most likely, fill in the break between 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


13 


this old-world life and any settled living in 
the new. Of course he would find some- 
thing, somewhere, and if it should be near 
old friends, so much the better; but he had 
formulated no plans. Then Paul entered his 
life, with constant references to his home 
and Ms cousin Marcia, and took undisputed 
possession of him, and linked him in the 
most natural way with all his future arrange 
nients. 

Paul did not know it, but Erie had made a 
few little purchases which might please the 
fancy of some woman, and as he dropped 
them into his trunk he had said to himself: 

Perhaps I may find some one to give them 
to.” And though he did not say so, he 
vaguely hoped it would be Marcia. If he 
had analyzed his feelings, he would have 
found that a certain indefinite ideal, which 
he called, “ Marcia,” was taking a firmer hold 
upon his thoughts of the new life, than any 
other person or thing. He was boyishly 


14 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


intent on the meeting, now so near, and more 
eager for it than he would have cared to 
acknowledge even to himself; he was rest- 
less ; he walked the long deck from end to 
end, over and over. The steamer seemed to 
creep over the miles still between them and 
the dock. He began teasing a group of chil- 
dren, whose friend he had been all through 
the voyage. He was pitiably impatient to 
tread again the stones of his native city; 
l)itiably, since it was not a home-coming for 
him, as it should have been ; for his family 
knew nothing of his movements and Erie 
was aware that both mother and sisters were 
out of town for the season. 

At last they reached the pier. The two 
young men went through the usual routine 
of securing their baggage ; lunched and 
then having ascertained the time of their 
probable arrival at Jones’ Point, High 
County, where Marcia spent much of her 
time, they telegraphed ahead, and spent their 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


15 


surplus energy in various excursions here 
and there for things which Paul thought 
might be needed to make their stay in the 
mountains, so early in the season, endurable. 
At last, as the result of all this activity of 
brain and muscle, sundry odd-looking pack- 
ages were visible, suggestive of long days 
out of doors. A lot of paper-covered books, 
not necessarily novels, for one can get any- 
thing in that shape now. A knot of ham- 
mocks, a heavy cane, with which came printed 
instructions for its evolution into an artist’s 
stool; artist’s paraphernalia, in all shaj)es 
and sizes and guises; a guitar, which Paul 
had taken to playing of late and countless, 
nameless odds and ends. These the young 
men finally stowed away and found them- 
selves en route for Jones’ Point. 

^^Here you! Tom Turner!” called the 
agent, coming out of the telegraph office in 
Eocton, the nearest railroad station to 
Jones’ Point. A half -grown boy came lazily 


16 


A WOMAN OF TO-J)AY. 


over from a freight car, which was standing 
near. 

“ Here, you take this yere message up to 
James Burns on the mountain; near Jones’ 
Point, don’t you know? ” 

“Yon guess I do? You ’spose I’m goin’ 
up there this time o’ day? Why it’s a three 
mile climb through the gully, straight up, and 
seven round the horseshoe, way most people 
goes. It’s nigh on to five o’clock now.” 

“ Get a horse then and be quick about it ; 
they’ll pay.” And the agent went in leaving 
the boy to ruminate. 

“Guess I’ll get James’ colt, I can ride 
him;” he finally concluded gravely, and 
started slowly off. 

Marcia Hunt, sketching in the little clear- 
ing, half a mile from the house, down the 
gully toward Rocton, saw the sunlight fad- 
ing away across the open slope. The shadows 
crept, inch by inch, over the short green 
grass. The long stretch of wagon road, run- 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


17 


ning off througli the woods on each side, had 
lost its enticing lights and shadows and was 
quite dark before she put up her sketching 
materials and rose to go home. She heard 
the sound of a horse’s hoofs on the bridge, 
further down the gully and hastened her 
steps. It might be a neighbor with the mail. 
She walked on slowly, up the mountain, and 
soon the horse and rider came in sight. She 
did not know the boy, but he, half knowing 
and half guessing who she was, and glad to 
save the steep climb to the house, called out 
to her: ‘^Say, you folks lookin’ for a tel’- 
graph d’spatch? ” 

“ I don’t know,” said Marcia. 

^Mest look and see ef this is yourn, will 
you?” And Tom handed her the dispatch, 
directed to herself. She tore it open, read it 
aud turned to go. 

Guess I’ll want a dollar. Miss, for this here 
colt.” Marcia, without a word, handed him 
the money and again hurried on. When she 


18 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


came out at last, to the edge of the cleared 
land where several small farm houses were 
clustered, the lights were already beginning 
to shine in the windows. She passed the 
first house and paused a moment to look 
over at the great wall of rocks on the east. 
They were already indistinct in the twilight, 
but she gazed intently as though she would 
pierce the gloom. She loved those rocks, 
with a strange, wild love, as though they hid 
some human thing behind their impenetrable 
fronts. Her imagination was fed and her 
soul strengthened by them. After a moment 
she turned and her eyes swept slowly along 
the horizon. For three miles below ran a 
deep, wild break in the hills toward the town 
of Rocton. To the right, the fields rolled 
gently over to the west, dotted with orchards 
and houses. The settlement was one of the 
oldest in the country and many a story was 
told of the days when the Indians brought 
terror to these homes. 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


19 


The long, hard ascent from the village 
below seemed to have exhausted the energies 
of the few who lived and died and were buried 
here. It had checked the possibility of any- 
thing like enterprise; even the little grave- 
yard on the knoll, in the meadow to the left, 
indicated respect for the dead at the least 
possible exertion. 

Nor had these people lacked the spirit of 
industry; there was a primitive simplicity 
about them and their ways of living which 
made them a study of never-ending interest 
to Marcia. They presented a wholesome con- 
trast to the side of life of which she knew the 
most, and while she was gracefully tolerant 
of their lack of worldly wisdom she loved 
their inherent goodness. 

The road where Marcia stood ran between 
the grassy bank and a long line of old un- 
painted sheds and buildings which had been 
added one to another as years brought the 
need for them. A cooper’s shop, a black- 


20 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


smith’s forge and a wagon shed, jostled each 
other with a wonderful lack of perpendicu- 
lar and horizontal lines. 

And Marcia found delight in studying the 
old structures, and peopling them with fancies 
which set them astir with a quaint, idealistic 
life. 

As Marcia approached Mr. Burns’ house, 
which was beyond the terrace, where her 
rooms were located, she found him seated on 
the frame of the grindstone, under the wood- 
shed, evidently awaiting her, and over his 
good Scotch face beamed a smile of welcome. 

The orphan lass Avas dear to him. Many a 
time he had wondered why he was not blessed 
with a daughter and whether she would have 
been like this girl. He, like the rest of the 
men up here, had fallen into contemplative 
habits of mind as the natural outgrowth of 
the slow life with its enforced quiet. He 
Avould sit by the half-hour near her, in the 
fields or the house, and watch her as she 


A WOMAN OP TO-DAY. 


21 


worked, speculating on what her future would 
be. Sometimes he would say a few words, 
which would show the drift of his thoughts. 

“ I would like to see you mistress of a big 
place, with plenty to do your bidding. Miss 
Marcia,” he would say. Then she would 
laugh and reply: 

“ Oh, it will be all right. I know very well 
that I will get what I deserve, and when I 
am equal to it all, it will come, no doubt.” 

Such was her cheerful, optimistic view of 
things, and results always bore her out in her 
belief. 

But she could not live without being loved. 
Had she failed to get affection and the ex- 
pression of it from the hearts of those good 
people she would have felt that there was 
something radically wrong with life. 

“O Mr. Burns, Paul and his friend are 
coming to-night. Here is the despatch. 
What shall we do ? ” she said going over and 
giving him the message. 


22 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


“ I will go. I have time yet to meet the 
train.” He moved off, then stopping abruptly, 
he turned and mysteriously beckoned her to 
him. 

“ Miss Marcia, may be he’ll be taking you 
off with him, when he goes, who knows ? ” 

“ How do you know I’d go with him ? ” a 
half happy, half defiant look on her face. 

To be sure, may be not, why no, may be 
not,” and he walked away smiling. 

“ Here, wife;” he called at the side door, 
“ Mr. Paul and his friend are coming to-night, 
could you get me a bite to eat, while I hitch 
the team ? ” 

Marcia entered the house and began to aid 
in putting the meal on the table; a fresh 
vivacity, born of anticipation, bubbling over 
in countless attractive little ways and 
speeches. 

“ Must not the lord of the house have the 
best ? ” “ Is not the wanderer returning to 

us ? ” “ And then, too, the stranger that is to 


A WOMAN* OF TO-DAY. 


23 


be within our gates; shall he not have the 
best ? ” “And aside from all this I am hungry 
as a savage myself.” 

Mrs. Burns, a keen little woman, full of 
life and energy, with wonderful, wavy, red- 
brown hair, softened and subdued by the 
gray which had but recently asserted itself, 
laughed, and nodded, and smiled, and brought 
out her best Java and began to make a pot 
for the supper. She was always responsive 
to Marcia’s moods. 

“ You delicious little woman,” said Marcia, 
“ you mean to brace me up well for this oc- 
casion. Oh ! yes, thank you, you may count 
on two cups for me. And this bread and 
butter of yours — well! rest assured they 
haven’t tasted anything like it over there 
among their macaroni-loving Italians, their 
tea-drinking Russians and their beer-consum- 
ing Germans. Let us surprise them to-night. 
Give them your best silver and cut glass. 
And that lovely damask, and. Busy Bee,” 


24 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


which was Marcia’s name for her, “ yon 
shall not turn me out for a drone. I shall 
help.” 

In the sunshine and love of this delightful 
home nook, Marcia had planted herself and 
taken root, to grow, unhindered. 

“ How your dear father, the doctor, did like 
a strong cup of this coffee, my dear,” said 
Mrs. Burns as she poured out a second one 
for Marcia. “ Yes, that he did,” she con- 
tinued, “ and he said that it never seemed to 
hurt people up here.” 

“ How could it,” replied Marcia, “ in such 
a charmed atmosphere, where nerves are 
always strung in tune.” 

“ Many a time,” went on Mrs. Burns, tak- 
ing pleasure in the memory, “ in the long 
rides he was called to take over these hills, 
he Xised to stop for a few moments’ chat with 
us and I generally managed to have a cup 
ready before he left.” 

“ What a friend we all lost in him.” 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


25 


“ Ah ! Marcia, we loved your father. He 
was a good man.” 

Through the open window the genial face 
of Mr. Burns appeared, questioning; 

“ Come, Miss Marcia, don’t you want to go 
down with me for the lads ? ” 

He hoped to get her to share his lonely 
ride. 

“ Now, James how can you want that child 
to take that long jaunt,” said Busy Bee. 

She was able to do it twenty times over, 
but Mrs. Burns had plans of her own. She 
wanted her to appear at her best before the 
stranger. 

“ She must stay home and get ready. Go 
along, you’ll be late.” Mr. Burns turned 
away reluctantly, and the two women, left to 
themselves, began at once the many prepara- 
tions they had yet to make for the guests. 

They had hardly expected Paul and Erie 
till the morrow. 

“ I will light the fire in the parlor and set 


26 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


the table, and — ” began Marcia, but Mrs. 
Burns broke in: “No you won’t, we will do 
it together. What shall I get for their 
supper ? ” 

“Oh, eggs and toast and some cold ham 
and coffee, and milk and cake, and — well — 
what more could a j)rince want ? ” 

At last Mrs. Burns dismissed Marcia, send- 
ing her home to dress. 

She went out of the door leading to the 
porch. 

A hammock was swinging to and fro be- 
tween the side of the house and one of the 
outer posts of the porch. Marcia felt rest- 
less. At another time she would have gone 
home immediately to make a careful toilet ; 
but to-night she threw herself into the ham- 
mock and turned her face toward the stars. 
She swayed nervously back and forth, catcli- 
ing great deep breaths of the pure fresli air. 
It soothed her with its touches aud yet 
poured into her throbbing veins a new life 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


27 


current. She had never been stirred by any 
great passion. All the charms of her rounded 
womanhood were latent, unclaimed and ap- 
parently unnoticed. 

Theories were unsatisfying things to live 
with alone, day by day, and to-night her 
heart seemed to beat warningly. She had 
felt before the possibilities of life in a broader 
field, but had put them away as not for her. 

The men she came most in contact with 
were so far below the man she had known 
best and loved devotedly, her father, that 
they did not often stir her admiration to a 
marked degree, and when they did they were 
always men so busy in the work of life that 
they had no time to allow any attraction she 
held for them to ripen into more than cordial 
liking. 

She could not help wondering Avhat this 
friend of Paul’s would be like. Of course she 
would be kind and gracious to him, because 
he was Paul’s friend. Perhaps he would be 


28 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


a man to be patient with, because of his in- 
ability to see and understand things excei^t 
from a superficial standpoint. 

It was not likely there was any good she 
could do for him. She would not think of 
him at all, if it were not to please Paul. He 
might be very tiresome when brought to the 
test of every-day companionship, for a whole 
month, the period Paul had suggested as the 
probable length of their stay.. 

Perhaps, — yes, it was very probable he was 
the kind of man who would call all her 
thoughts ^^bosh” and wish her — well — any- 
where — so be it he was not there 
She would soon know. 

For more than an hour she had been swing- 
ing in the hammock, and her thoughts, like 
it, had been swaying to and fro, now ap- 
proaching a conclusion and now receding into 
uncertainty. 

She went down the road to her rooms, up 
the stairs, changed her dress and put some 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAr. 


29 


blossoms in her belt, then she came down and 
stood in her cozy parlor by the little old- 
fashioned centre table, in the centre of the 
room, with its square-cornered leaves, and a 
cover which was one of Marcia’s heirlooms ; a 
line old chintz, tinted in all the spring greens 
and sprayed with quaint designs of intensely 
erratic impossible flowers. 

The shaded lamp was painted in the same 
tints and Marcia’s household gods lay close 
around it. 

A copy of Emerson’s essays, a volume of 
Longfellow’s poems, another of Mrs. Brown- 
ing’s and what to her is first and best, a New 
Testament. Some would have criticised un- 
ifleasantly at once at catching sight of this, 
for it was the new version. 

A book of clever sketches, a bit of sewing 
and a bowl of beautiful wild orchids com- 
pleted the ensemhle which pleased the eye 
while yielding a sort of insight to the soul of 
the possessor. 


30 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


The little yellow and brown jackets of the 
orchids filled the room with a perfume as 
delicate as that of violets, and as they lay in 
their bowl of India-blue china, they suggested 
a handful of materialized day dreams. 

Marcia was beautiful to look at, with her 
dark eyes, her brows uplifted, her luxuriant 
hair, her fresh bright face and in her figure 
a beauty of repose which Avas really its chief 
attraction. Her black dress was relieved 
only by a cluster of delicate hepatica blos- 
soms, extending from her belt to her throat, 
tinted like the storm clouds of an April 
day, from which they always seemed to have 
sprung. 

She took up her Longfellow almost caress- 
ingly, and held it a moment, then laid it 
down lingeringly, as one might release the 
hand of a friend. 

Her thoughts drifted again to this stranger, 
upon whose coming she had allowed her 
mind to linger so much. Again she wondered 


A 'WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


81 


how they would impress each other, and 
whether, as her Emerson says : 

“Jove would nod to Jove from behind them.” 

Would she like him well enough, for Paul’s 
sake, to find the real man in him, and would 
he care to know the real woman in her ? 

It was not likely. As for her, she could 
not show her true inner self readily, and few 
had attempted to look for or ask it. 

As she listened, a far-off dog barked, then 
all was still. Suddenly she heard the rumble 
of wheels on the little mountain bridge, and 
went quickly out into the night; hurrying 
over to the Burns’, where Paul and Erie were 
to room, and where she took her meals. She 
glanced into the large shed which served as 
a summer kitchen and called: ‘^Busy Bee.” 

Mrs. Burns came forward and Marcia took 
her hand and drew her out. Together they 
stood, waiting. In a few moments the car- 
riage came in sight, and Erie took his first* 


32 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


glimpse of Paul’s cousin. With that first 
glim2)se came the question: “Is she more 
than a cousin to Paul ? ” 

He watched closely the meeting in the 
moonlight. The lovely laughing face with 
its frame of soft, curling, rebellious locks, 
did not seem to have changed its exquisite 
color for a deeper shade, if he might depend 
upon the moonlight, arid Marcia had turned 
from Paul’s salutation instantly, to greet 
him. 

She met him in a happy, cordial way, turn- 
ing up her face to scan his, frankly allowing 
her curiosity to satisfy itself. Each seemed 
to divine the thoughts of the other, for both 
were laughing before they had exchanged a 
word. 

“It was very good of you to come with 
Paul; he loves you so,” said Marcia, as she 
went toward the porch with Erie, where Paul 
and Mrs. Burns had preceded them, and 
opened the door into the room which served 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


83 


as a parlor, and in which a fire burned 
cheerily on the hearth. 

“See! here is our ingleside and there arc 
your rooms,” she said pointing to the doors 
opposite, “ as soon as you are ready, come out 
and have some supper. Mrs. Burns is wait- 
ing.” 

She went into the next room and busied 
herself about the supper table. 

“Paul, where are you and what are you 
doing? ” she called at length. 

“Here, Marcia, talking with Busy Bee; 
she wants me to tell her all my travels in a 
breath. How sweet you look to-night. It 
never struck me that you were pretty before.” 

“Joy at your return has • beatified me, 
perhaps, temporarily. I never was pretty, 
you know, Paul,” laughed Marcia. 

Erie, coming slowly from the inner room, 
heard the last words. He looked at her in 
the stronger lamp light and thought: “No, 
not pretty perhaps, but something better.” 


84 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


She was still slight and girlish in figure, 
though she had reached twenty-five; Erie 
was thirty. Paul had said much, but after 
all he had never touched on what struck 
Erie now as her chief attraction, the beauty 
of her expression, which played over her 
face, ever varying, yet ever revealing a more 
potent charm. 

Erie, scientist and almost agnostic as he 
was, acknowledged the presence of an en- 
nobling element which was more than mental 
superiority; it was a beauty of the heart, and 
he felt curious to know more of the depths, 
which he felt must exist in the nature before 
him. 

What experiences of life had brought that 
refined beauty of expression into her face? 
Had she given a woman’s wonderful love to 
some man, not half worthy of it? So many^ 
lovable women make that mistake. 

No one was saying very much to Erie just 
now. The others were busy over happy little 


A WOMAN OP TO-DAY. 


35 


incidents of Paul’s trip, and though they 
tried to draw him into the conversation, the 
effort was a failure, for he was absorbed in a 
mental scrutiny of Marcia and was trying to 
fit his preconceptions of her to this living, 
breathing reality before him. 

He had fancied she might be brusque, 
almost repellant perhaps, from Paul’s sug- 
gestion that he might not like her. 

Did he not say she did not strike all people 
alike? 

And Erie felt a thrill of gladness that 
she did not. She would be surrounded by 
suitors, did they all see her as he did. 

She was simply radiant, with that sweet, 
tender smile, those bright, laughing eyes, that 
tempting color, now cooling, now glowing in 
her cheeks, and the entire absence of any 
apparent egotism. 

He had begun to lend himself rather gladly 
to his first idea of her, and now to find it so 
completely swept away by this real creature. 


36 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


SO much above his dreams, abashed him. He 
had almost assured himself of success in win- 
ning the regard of that other one, the girl he 
had thought she would be. 

This Marcia was a revelation to him. He 
felt the limitations of his past, and could not 
rise beyond its level, all at once. 

And yet she inspired in him a strange, 
sweet hope. Perhaps near her — with her 
always in sight, always close at hand, to 
stimulate him, he might attain possession of 
that faith, hope and love, the belief in which 
he had almost thought best to put aside, with 
other childish things ; but in losing which he 
began to see that all color and glow would 
vanish from his life. 

It had once occurred to him that no agnos- 
tic could become a sailor and yet retain his 
agnosticism. Contending daily with winds 
and waves, he would hope and believe in 
something, before he had sailed one trip out, 
and now he realized that Marcia’s words 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


37 


might be to him as wind and waves, encour- 
aging or defeating him. 

^‘Dr. Erie,” Marcia broke in upon his rev- 
cry, your photograph hardly tells the truth 
about you.” 

‘‘My photograph? I did not know you 
had seen one.” And Erie smiled such a 
pleased surprise that Marcia, glancing across 
at Paul, saw in wonder that there was a 
mystery. 

The truth was, Paul had never said much 
to Marcia of Erie and Erie knew it, and that 
he had taken the trouble to forward his pho- 
tograph did not look as though — well he did 
not know yet, whether they cared for each 
other with the usual cousinly regard or 
something more. But the pleasure of this 
discovery, that she had thought of him at 
all, made him happy. And, though they 
exchanged only commonplaces now and then 
through the evening, when he bade her good 
night at her own door and caught a glimpse 


38 


A WOMAlSf OF TO-DAY. 


of tlie lighted table within, he felt all chance 
of dulness at Jones’ Point had vanished. 

And Marcia, what of her ? 

She had found a man whose power of 
pleasing her was not limited to one evening. 
She had no wish to look further now. She 
would take the future on trust, happy in not 
having, as usual, measured the man’s limita- 
tions in a few hours. 

As Erie walked back to the house, he 
smiled at the vigorous mental catechism to 
which he was subjecting himself, and when 
he asked himself why he did it, he found a 
ready reply in the fact that Paul was his 
friend and Marcia — Paul’s dearest relative. 
Yet that did not seem to explain why he 
wished morning were already come that he 
might atone for his apparent listlessness. He 
had taken so little part in their evening’s 
talk, that now, when it was too late to redeem 
himself, he realized that he had j)robably 
made an unfavorable impression and he did 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAM. 


39 


not quite know why he regretted it so much. 
Such things heretofore had been, compara- 
tively, matters of indifference. 

“Ah! Well! ” he said, “ I have a month for 
penance, if need be,” and then walked up the 
steps into the house. 

The next day, as Marcia went down and 
out into the morning, she lingered a moment 
at the steps. Standing there, in her gray 
dress and hat, against a background of lilac 
blooms, with the delicate color and perfume 
of apple blossoms around and above her, she 
made the sweetest of pictures, not purposely, 
but because she was naturally and uncon- 
sciously a part of the picturesque. 

Erie, who had been astir for an hour, saw 
her and felt the spring-like beauty of the 
picture. 

“Oh, for the skill of an artist that my 
future might be assured, by reproducing the 
picture I see before me,” he exclaimed. 

“I should insist upon a postponement of 


40 ’ 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


the first sitting, Dr. Erie,” she replied smil- 
ing. “Doesn’t breakfast find any place in 
yonr thoughts this morning? ” 

“ Evidently there will be no opportunity to 
practice my profession while such appetite !S 
prevail,” said Eiie^ Marcia smiled again and 
breaking off a wee spray of the fresh lilac 
blossoms she came down the steps from the 
bank on which the low, long house stood. 

“The little spray is intended — ?” ques- 
tioned Erie. 

“For your button hole,” answered Marcia. 

With the shadows from the old, black- 
walnut tree playing over them, they stood 
together while she fastened it for him. Then 
they sauntered slowly up the road to the 
little white house with green blinds, where 
breakfast was waiting for them. 

For a half-hour they chatted over the 
fresh rolls and butter, the fragrant coffee 
and cream, and the tempting morsels which 
look so unpalatable when ordered from a 


A WOMAN OP TO-DAY. 


41 


bill of fare, but which whet to its keenest 
edge the ai)petite, when served in a country 
house where the mountain breezes blow in 
through the open windows, laden with the 
scent of wild flowers and woodland blossoms. 

The door opened and Mrs. Burns came in. 
She sat down opposite Erie and turned her 
face, with its keen, good-humored eyes full 
upon him. 

“So you have come up here to stay a 
month, doctor? ” 

“ That is the intention, Mrs. Burns, if you 
don’t turn us out.” 

Mrs. Burns gave an emphatic nod and 
then she said with a smile, and quaint little 
turn of the head peculiar to her: “ What do 
you think, Marcia? Will we turn them out? ” 

“ Time alone can tell,” laughed Marcia. 

Mrs. Burns was a woman of flne percep- 
tions, good judgment and an experience of 
life not always measured by her present sur- 
roundings. She had already formed her 


42 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


opinion of John Erie, as correctly, in a gen- 
eral way, as though she had known him a 
year. Had any one asked her for it she 
would have answered briefly: ‘‘He is gen- 
uine.” 

Ho higher praise could be given by her 
than this. In this crucible of honesty did 
she melt all people and things, and if dross 
was there she soon found it and while she 
covered it with the broad mantle of Christian 
love, an insincere nature could never And 
itself installed in her household on any foot- 
ing of friendship. 

This little, middle-aged woman, for twenty 
years at home upon this lonely mountain, 
was a woman of genius. She possessed the 
faculty of drawing into her home, by some 
magnetism of her own, people of talent, of 
taste, of culture, and once having entered, 
they found themselves appreciated, their 
fancies charmed and their minds fixed in the 
desire to return and find renewal of vigor in 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


43 


this bracing moral atmosphere, which some 
way partook of, and was a part of the clear 
sky, pure air, fresh breezes and health-giv- 
ing nature of the mountain itself. 

Her character was partly the outcome of 
long communion with the glorious nature 
around her. 

Her ‘^genuine” meant real, everlasting — 
like the rocks — therefore God-like ; the only 
thing to be desired. 

Erie, though a man of the world and a 
traveller, was full of wojider at this peculiar 
bit of thoroughly American atmosphere and 
its odd mingling of foreign culture. 

He could not understand fully the child- 
like delight and happy abandon to the pres- 
ent of Marcia’s bright face and light laugh. 
He was tingling with the longing to turn the 
tide of this bright nature toward himself, 
but how? 

He was far oft from her. Paul, Mrs. 
Burns, the birds, the trees, the skies, all held 


44 


A WOMAN OP TO-DAY. 


a share in her, but he, none. He would be- 
guile her into showing him her inner self; 
perhaps he could meet that with a sympathy 
all his own. 

“ Come,” said Paul at last, spi’inging up, 
“ let’s go somewhere.” 

Marcia, toying with a great Saint Bernard, 
sitting beside her, rose slowly, with her hand 
still upon the dog’s head. She lifted her 
finger warningly at Paul, and said; 

“We must husband our resources if Dr. 
Erie would tax them for a month. So it 
must not be the Point we seek to-day.” 

“ Oh, no, that can wait. I want some views 
from South Hill. You and Erie can do the 
pictirresque for me, if you will. I want to 
try my new camera.” 

This was an undeveloped amusement with 
Paul, as yet, and when he thought he had 
found just the spot for a good stand and had 
drawn the others after him, with much diffi- 
culty, he was sure to abandon it in a few 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


45 


moments and rush off in a manner which 
some would have called a reckless expendi- 
ture of energy. 

Tliey had wandered for hours, led by Paul’s 
vacillating fancies, assisting him in all his 
efforts to secure good views of favorite nooks, 
and obeying all his impetuous' directions 
Avitli most praiseworthy diligence, when they 
were joined by one of the neighboring 
farmers. His primitive imagination running 
Avild with him, he had mistaken them for a 
surveying party, and visions of a new rail- 
road and a rise in the price of land had 
drawn him to them. Erie and Marcia drew 
to one side and left Paul to explain, while 
they quietly made the most of the moment, 
and sank down, one on a fallen tree the other 
on a ragged rock, and lost themselves in the 
mutual delight of question and answer. 

“Miss Hunt,” said Erie as they watched 
Paul striding here and there in the distance, 
“ this running away from home as I did, is 


46 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


not just the thing for us young Americans 
who mean to be good citizens, is it? ” 

“ Do you regret it ? ” asked Marcia. 

“ If I had the choice again, I would stay 
here,” replied Erie. 

“ Why,” said Marcia, turning suddenly. 

“ Oh, there is everything we need at home, 
now, and a man gets out of sympathy with 
too much.” 

“Have you?” she asked, so directly that 
Erie looked away and not waiting for his 
answer, she added: 

“ We will try to bring you back again.” 

“I wish you would,” he responded and 
then he pulled a cigar out of his pocket, 
looked at it absently, and put it away again. 

“ Oh, I will forgive you if you smoke. The 
wind is blowing away from me,” Marcia said, 
laughing at his unconscious hint. 

So he lit his cigar and smoked lazily, puff- 
ing up clouds of rings and watching them 
disperse. 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


47 


Marcia drew a little book from her pocket 
and with a few rapid strokes and touches 
caught the lazy pose of his ligure with the 
cloud of smoke above. Holding it before 
him she said gayly: ‘‘There, that is Dr. 
Erie, minus home sympathies — by-and-by I 
will make you a companion sketch — when 
you have reformed.” 

“Ah!” cried Paul joining them, “I have 
caught you both in a capital bit; don’t 
move now. If that rock and tree, behind 
you, come out in good tone, I shall be 
happy.” 

Then seeing the sketch Marcia had made: 
“ You have a characteristic thing there; how 
much better you work than you did when I 
went away.” 

“I enjoy it; so much goes into a fevr 
touches,” said Marcia as she slipped the book 
back into her pocket. 

“So much goes into a few touches,” re- 
peated Paul and he nodded as he settled his 


48 A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 

camera, and exposed tlie negative. “Now 
let’s go home.” 

“ Here, I’ll help you, old boy.” And Erie 
shouldered a portion of Paul’s load and to- 
gether they moved slowly homeward. 

“ This is the laziest atmosphere I was ever 
in,” said Erie turning to Marcia. “ I feel as 
though I had not an idea left which was not 
a sleepy one.” 

“ That is always the way at first,” she said. 
“You will recover after a while; but I love 
even the sleepy days. Life is very sweet up 
here.” 

To Erie’s praise be it said that he was a 
novice in all the little arts of pleasing women. 
He had lived only for his profession, as yet. 
All he asked from the other sex was that 
they should let him alone and when they 
had proved unreasonable he had left them 
and gone stolidly on. 

The time had now come when he would have 
liked to feel that he could charm if he chose. 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


49 


When love’s awakening reaches a certain 
point, with men like Erie, it acts like an in- 
spiration, producing, on the instant, all the 
trivial by-play of the affections and shaping 
each action to itself until the glorious out- 
burst of all the faculties makes the happy 
lover more than the ordinary man he has 
been till then. 

Erie had not advanced far enough for this, 
and as day followed day he only felt his way 
slowly toward a knowledge of what would 
please and attract Marcia. Had any one 
confronted him with the question : ‘^Are you 
in love?” he would promptly have denied 
it even to himself. 

Paul would have answered differently 
before five days had passed. He and Erie 
were always off together somewhere or 
seemed to be so, yet Paul often strayed to a 
neighboring house or found some work which 
separated them for an occasional half-day. 

So Marcia, true to her first determination 


60 


A AVOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


and also to something else which was new, set 
herself the not iinjjleasant task of entertain- 
ing Paul’s friend. 

Excursions to one place and another had 
been planned and carried out, yet Marcia had 
never taken Erie to the Point, from which 
she had so often watched the sunset and 
where she had built so many castles. Some- 
how she felt that she must save that place 
for a particular mood which had not yet 
come to her since Erie’s arrival. 

One afternoon he said: “Miss Marcia;” 
sometimes it was Marcia, now, but always 
hurriedly and half -forgetfully, as thougli it 
arose from hearing Paul and Mrs. Burns 
address her thus — “ Miss Marcia, is the time 
not yet ripe for a sunset view from the 
Point?” Marcia hesitated an instant, then 
held out her hand to him and led the way. 


PART SECOND. 



Thine was the prophet’s vision, thine 
The exultation, the divine 
Insanity of noble minds. 

That never falters, nor abates. 

But labors and endures and waits 
Till all that it foresees, it finds. 

Or what it cannot find creates. ” 

Longfellow. 

The buzzing of the bees in the flowers, the 
soft gurgle of the little spots of moisture, as 
the warm earth disturbs them in her breath- 
ing, the slight sound of movement on every 
side, which one never hears after early 
spring ; all this sweet commotion which 
nature makes as she brews her nectar for 
spring’s uses; all this imparted its spell of. 
fresh living to these two, as they went on in 
it, as in an enchanted land. 

Miss Hunt, what do you and Paul find to 
draw you to this lonely wildernesslj’’. said 
Erie. ' 


54 A WOMAN OF TO-DAl". 

“Fresh air, solitude and tender associa- 
tions. Is not that sufficient? ” 

There was a dainty, harmless coquetry in 
her manner as she answered, which melted so 
charmingly into the earnest, that what she 
said acquired new interest as one watched 
her. 

“ Yes, but Avhy should you wish solitude? ” 
persisted Erie, bent upon making her talk. 

“Because life. Doctor, has been made a 
very serious thing for me.” She smiled as 
she spoke and was silent. 

“Why more serious for you than other 
women?” he asked, looking at so much of 
her face as was toward him. 

“ I often ask myself that question and can 
find but the one answer. It is just. The law 
of compensation must be met.” 

“AVhat must be compensated for?” said 
Erie, smiling. 

“God has given me the power of seeing 
what others do not always see and He re- 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY'. 5o 

quires more from me. I have dared to hope 
I may make the world a little better for hav- 
ing lived in it.” 

“But what do you see which others do 
not, that so much should be asked from you 
again? ” 

Erie was astonished to find himself ques- 
tioning Marcia boldly in this way. But she 
was unlike other women he knew. 

He did not care to decide in just what way 
this difference existed, but he felt and yielded 
to it. 

There is a craving in every well-regulated 
nature for a sympathetic help at certain 
periods of one’s development, at certain 
crises in one’s life, at the strongest or weakest 
moments of all the varied phases of growth. 

And Erie was in a transition state. His 
character had not yet crystallized. He was 
aware of a disturbance of some kind, but he 
did not know just what it portended. 

Marcia’s personality hai)pened to be more 


56 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


real to him at the time than that of any 
other woman, and any one with a knowledge 
of human nature could have surmised the 
result. Erie craved her as his friend. Again 
he was unaware of himself; nothing was 
clear in his sense, of either his needs or his 
desires. It is the glorious jDOSsibility of life 
which gives it its greatest zest, while the 
command to work remains ; it is not so much 
the attainment of an end as its attaining 
which delights us. 

“What do I see?” repeated Marcia. “Dr. 
Erie, if you question me in this way, I must 
answer you truthfully and I do not like to 
talk of myself. I am over sensitive in this 
respect perhaps ; whenever I have thrown my 
soul into words, it has only been to be mis- 
understood, and to find what has been sacred 
to me profaned by others from whom I hoped 
it would command respect, so that now I am 
slow to speak. Had we not better talk of 
broader subjects, the flowers, the birds , or 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


57 


these helpless young moths just out of 
bondage? ” 

As she spoke she turned her eyes, full of 
such sweet, earnest questioning upon him, 
that he forgot the light sarcasm lurking in 
her tone and words, and answered only the 
spirit of the look. 

‘^No, Miss Hunt, I promise you at least 
respect, if you will answer me. What are 
these things you see? ’’ 

As he spoke their eyes met. She had 
sought his face to know how far she might 
give utterance to that which was crying out 
in her. A steady light shone in his eyes 
now, unknown perhaps to himself, but which 
flashed out, merged its life with hers and 
made it impossible for her to withhold her 
confldence, though how much she might or 
might not say she was not sure. 

“ I read secrets in the book of life which 
are appalling. If I live with people a little 
while, the very motives of their souls are as 


A WOMAK OF TO-DAY. 


S8 

apparent to me as are the marks upon my 
hand,” she said, turning her palm up to look 
at it. “ If there is evil I see it. If there is 
good I know it and all without direct volition 
on my part. It is truth, I cannot turn away 
from it.” 

She gave a little sigh. 

Erie saw that Marcia spoke with effort. It 
had not been easy for her to confide even that 
much of herself to him. His profession had 
forced him to feel that the evil in life pre- 
dominated. The constant contact with its 
different phases had almost killed the ideal 
in him. 

He had not that strength, drawn from a 
higher source, which alone can make the 
ideal brighter and purer, as the fight between 
the evil and the good goes on. He thought 
such fresh sweetness as this which he saw 
before him now was not to be reconciled with 
his views of life, as formed from his experi- 


ence. 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


59 


‘^Miss Hunt, you cannot know life as I 
know it, or you would feel you had under- 
taken a hopeless task when you think to 
better this world of ours, all alone.” 

Marcia wondered if it were well to ven- 
ture the only answer she could honestly give. 
Should she again drop down the sounding 
line into the heart of this man, whom she 
felt she would rather not«^.fathoni so soon? 
It was so jdeasant to look at him and fancy 
he might be the friend for whom she had 
longed. She might put an immeasurable 
distance between them if she showed the 
heights of her hopes. She dared not think 
he would divine her meaning at the very 
lirst, even though he might in the aftertime. 

At length she said: am not alone; lielj) 

is always given me when I need and ask it.” 

They were entering a narrower stretch of 
i*oad running between borders of witch hazel, 
birch and other young trees and shrubs, and 
the enticing sunlight, dancing in their tops, 


60 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


surprising and beguiling anew at each turn, 
entered like wine into Erie’s spirit, intensify- 
ing, each moment, his interest and his plea- 
sure in the hour. For the present all doubts 
of Marcia’s freedom had vanished and he 
gave himself up to his impulse to follow 
where she led, let the consequences be what 
they would. He might, at least, come to 
know himself the better, and establish him- 
self on a better footing with her. 

You have not told me yet why you choose 
solitude? Can you not work just as well 
among others? Better indeed? ” 

I only come here at times.” There was a 
long pause. Erie feared to speak lest she 
might not continue. 

I am not always strong. People draw on 
me and weaken me once in a while. Human 
nature cannot bear the constant strain upon 
it in the crowded world ; it must escape to 
the mountains.” 

A comradeship was already established be- 


A AVO.MAN OF TO-DAY, 


61 


tween these two, born of the fresh intense life 
of the one and the real need of the other. 

Erie, instead of being repelled, as most men 
might have been by the intense earnestness 
he had succeeded in arousing, rejoiced in it. 
It had cost something for her to show it to 
him. It was a glimpse at her inner nature, 
and this was what he sought. 

Suddenly he said to her: You have told 
me much of yourself to-day, but you have 
only awakened a desire to know still more. 
Miss Marcia.” 

‘‘How?” she asked with a real wonder in 
her wide shining eyes. 

“ I am curious to know what it will all end 
in.” 

“If I live it will end in some good done. 
In nothing mean,” she said. 

“ You show me grand fancies, purity and 
breadth of nature, and high hopes for the 
success of too much, but experience, and — ” 
he paused here as if in thought, but she 


62 


A ^YOUAN OF TO-DAY. 


urged him to go on — and a few years more 
of life will find yon bereft of yonr illusions, 
as have been so many other dreamers, unless 
yon are made of rare stuff,” he added, half 
reluctantly. 

‘‘My illusions have faded already,” she 
answered. 

“ I know now that truth lies in the mean 
of life,” he said. “ I no longer believe that 
peojde are either all bad or all good, there is 
always a mingling of the two elements, and I 
must be strong enough to see and be content 
with life as I find it. You all indulge in 
theories Avhich are beyond the power of 
human nature to fulfil.” 

“Ah ! ” she said, “ now you have touched 
my secret. It is not human nature in which 
my dreams find fulfilment.” 

“Pardon me, but indeed I do not under- 
stand you,” he answered, turning and look- 
ing at her. 

He had been talking in an almost listless 


A WOMA^^ OF TO-DAY. 


63 


way until now, looking off over the hills and 
country down below them and seeming to 
express his thoughts lazily as one does with 
a child when helx3ing to lay out a simx)le 
block puzzle often made before. 

I dream and work now for the divine, for 
the kingdom which is to come u]3on the 
earth, is even now begun and is with us ; ” 
she rej^lied, without turning her head or 
moving her gaze from a rift in the clouds, 
through which the sun, now quite low, half 
looked at them. 

“ Still I don’t understand,” he said. 

They were on the top of the cliff now ; slie 
was sitting on one of the ramparts of this 
stronghold of the rocks; Erie half day, half 
sat upon the level stone beside her. lie 
must keej) close to hear what she was saying. 
Up there the wind was always strong and 
somewhat noisy. Her joresence sent a thrill 
through every fibre of his being. Never 
before had the simple fact of a woman’s near- 


04 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


ness moved liim so. He would not seek to 
keej) back a lytliing she might unconsciously 
demand of j lini. 

Is Imm^ n nature the only force you find 
working in this world?'’ questioned Marcia. 
^‘Do you r ot find something which is not in 
your own mature, croi)ping up rnd infiuenc* 
ing your actions now and then? Have you 
not seen people do noble things from motives 
you could not fully understand but yet ad- 
mired? ” 

‘‘Yes, I have, Miss Marcia, but not often; 
such x)eople are rare.” 

“ Was the world any better for what they 
did. Doctor?” 

“Y-e-s,” assented Erie very slowly. He 
began to see now, how she meant to better it. 

“ Have you never been stirred by a great 
love, so great that you would give all you 
hold dearest if you could, by so doing, bene- 
fit the one you loved? ” 

As she spoke she met his eyes fastened on 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY, 


()5 

her in a questioning way. There was a liim- 
gry, appealing look in them wliich startled 
her. She looked away and eontiniied. ‘‘ I 
see you have not yet learned this lesson. I 
cannot tell you what I mean, I fear. Only 
the knowledge of such a love coidd explain 
what I mean. You must be touched by a 
l^ower, not of earth, else you could not com^ 
prehend it.” 

She sighed as if over a hopeless task and 
looked at the rift, in the clouds. 

might feel a love like that some day. 
Will you not go on and explain?” asked 
Erie seriously. 

Might you?” she queried and once more 
the possible sweetness of life flashed over 
her. “ Then I will try. It would be foolish 
for one to go to you at such a time and for- 
bid you to do actual evil to the person you 
loved, because you could only think and 
wish to do good. Is it not so? ” 

Yes, of course, it woxild be very foolish,” 


66 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


Well, don’t you see that, for the time 
being, you would have become a part of the 
eternal goodness, in a certain line incapable of 
wrong. To love thus is unconsciously to 
fulfill all law. You do all that could be 
asked from you and you are on the borders 
of the heavenly kingdom. Now, if you could 
only lift uj) this love from the creature to 
the Creator then you would have entered in. 
You would thenceforth dream and work for 
the Divine. Do you see? ” 

‘‘Half way; as we see the sun there. You 
mean that such love transcends and expands 
human nature.” 

“ Yes, it proclaims a power oeyond which 
is the Divine, the power which is to rule by- 
and-by.” 

“Why do you not write a book and tell 
people what you wish them to know? ” 

“ My time has not yet come. I dare not 
v/rite till I have first lived more nearly as I 
A’/oiild wish them to. The world is already 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


67 


too full of books spun from men’s fancies. 
There is plenty of brain and muscle afloat 
among the writers and printers, but too little 
of the purity and beauty of spirit animating 
it all. When I have proved myself, then and 
only then may I turn and share with the 
world that which is worthy of sharing. Then 
I shall feel surer I have something to give 
. which it needs, until then I must keep silence. 
Shall we go home? ” 

This girl, as she rose up and looked at him, 
was unlike any one he had ever seen before, 
and he questioned himself vainly for the 
secret of it. 

She had been as full of changes, during 
this spring day, as had the clouds in the soft 
sky or the tints upon the landscape, or the 
vanishing shadows which the sun and clouds 
had kept varying each moment. 

Marcia had allowed herself to be wrought 
upon by some unknown element in this new 
nature until, without being aware of it, she 


68 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


was under an intense strain, sucli as nature 
nQver bears long at a time Vvdthout resenting 
it. Hers was an exceptional nature. It 
took a long time to produce and mature its 
buds to a certain point, then suddenly, when 
the time was ripe, they would bloom into 
perfection with wonderful rapidity and glori- 
ously, like the flowers that reach perfect 
development in a single night; astonishing 
herself even more than another, because she 
alone knew the long and weary, almost hope- 
less waiting which had been necessary before 
any tangible result was attained. 

To-day had been a blossoming day for her. 
She had wondered lightly how she was to 
touch this new soul. She found now that 
she was to reach it only by and through her 
best and fullest confidence. Unconsciously 
he had led her up to express herself in a 
clearer, stronger light and more perfect detail 
than she had even thought in before, nnd 
thus a new beauty and enthusiasm had en- 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


69 


terecl lier soul and had left an impression 
ui)on her which would not fade with the 
rising of to-morrow’s sun, but which would 
remain and be a part of her. 

In her answer to the question, “ What will 
it all end in? ” she rang out the key note of 
her character. “In some good done, if I 
live.” An ideal once formed, she never rested 
until on the way to attain it. 

Idea and action, dream and reality must 
link themselves for her, no matter what sac- 
rifice stood in the pathway. 

Two weeks had gone by almost unheeded. 
Alarmed by the expressions into which she 
had been betrayed that first day on the rocks, 
Marcia had tried to put the unusual serious- 
ness of her character as far off from her pres- 
ent as possible ; and the happy, careless part 
of her nature had since been allowed full 
sway. 

Unlike most women of the day she had not 
grown to question the conclusions of life, so 


70 


A WOMAlSf OP TO-DAY. 


far as they pertained to herself, beyond a 
certain frontage of the possible, which had 
come to loom xip before her consciousness as 
the rocks loomed up over there against the 
sky; and the unalterableness of which she 
had accepted in the same way. 

She had found there were certain un- 
changeable conditions of her mental and 
spiritual structure which made it impossible 
for her to sin against the ideal, without hrst 
sacrificing an inherited perception of right. 
She had made her choice with an instinctive 
shrinking from the necessary hardships at- 
tending it. 

Young though she was at the time when 
she met and conquered her fate (if one may 
so say), she was only a girl on the threshold 
of life ; her victory had been entire ; she had 
chosen to yield herself to all the forces for 
good which had lent themselves in the form- 
ing of her being; she had Joined herself 
determinedly to the unseen world, out of 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


ri 


which she had sprung, and with which she 
knew her relations were more sure and real 
than any she might ever make in the material 
world about her. In short she had chosen 
an allegiance to the ideal which she knew 
was at direct variance with many conditions 
of the Avorld and society around her, and 
through which her way led. 

It was the truest heroism which entered 
into and led this young soul, quivering in 
every delicate, sensitive, gracious Avomanly 
fibre. 

She might never swerve from the highest 
in her x^tirpose. That she should be mis- 
taken in her i)erceptions of this she felt 
would be inqjossible, if she but held close the 
divine hand stretched out to lier. That she 
might be mistaken in her methods of attain- 
ing it she knew to be i)robable, and that lier 
world would be often against lier was a fact 
which fell crushingly ui)on her from the first. 

But child as she was, in soul, she yielded 


72 


A WOMAN OF TO-I)AY. 


herself to the requirements of the Everlasting 
One and went forward. 

Erie was coming slowly to a nearer percep- 
tion of her than had any man before. Instead 
of finding, as he first supposed, the outlines 
of her being clearly set and defined, he began 
to perceive that they could not be measured 
by any mere earthly vision. They were like 
those of other heavenly bodies, to be discov- 
ered only by long and patient investigation 
and then through a spiritual lens, as it were. 

It had become the all-important question 
with Erie as to whether he might so purify 
his vision as ever fully to attain a perception 
of her life in all its varied phases. 

There had come a certain veil of material- 
ism across his instincts which now shadowed 
all his perceptions. He had until now 
thought it the inevitable result of knowl- 
edge. 

But he began to see it came because he 
had set too close a limit to his knowledge. 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


73 


He had not given his facts field enough. 
Science itself was often being enlarged by 
marginal notations. Suddenly he caught a 
glimpse of his possibilities, running beyond 
the finite. 

If any one thinks this isolated mountain 
life was limited in its opportunities for 
dramatic action, so necessary in romance, 
they must consider that the most interesting 
dramas of life are lived first in the world of 
ideas. Is it not in the formation of motive 
that our keenest interest centres? 

Thus neither Erie nor Marcia had fopnd a 
lack of interest in the life of the past two 
weeks. Erie in the early and late mists, 
which drew away the mountain from the rest 
of the world around, began and ended his 
days in an atmosphere of contirual consecra- 
tion to this new search for the liighest j)ossi- 
ble in him. 

He was seeking to regain, if he might, his 
instinctive perceptions of things. It had 


74 


A WOMAN OP TO-DAY. 


become a matter of course for Marcia and 
Erie to watch the sunset from the hills, and 
Erie had come to look foTward to this as the 
best i^art of the day. 

He had gotten in a way of lying near her, 
stretched by her side, his gaze, perhaps, on 
the clouds, but all his thoughts centred on 
her. 

To-night they were looking out upon a 
realm of puride and golden splendor. There 
were English violets in Marcia’s belt, redolent 
with sweetness. Erie was lying near enough 
to catch each wave of fragrance as Marcia 
turned to see some new bit of changing color. 
He had brought them to her from the mail 
that day and she had not said who sent them, 
but such a flood of light had illumed her 
eyes that he was jealous of the sender. Even 
though the sender were a woman, he be- 
grudged that look. 

Marcia, turning suddenly, saw the figures 
of two men coming iip through the long 


A WOMAN OF TO-OAY. 


75 


stretch of rolling pasture between them and 
the house, up through the little marshy spot 
where the stepping stones led from the birch 
trees to the i)ath beyond, on over the sugges- 
tion of road, narrowed by sweet ferns and 
huckleberry bushes, with the grass almost 
tilling up the wheel tracks, still on, through 
the gaps between what was once a rail fence, 
and as soon as she could distinguish their 
faces, she started up quickly, excused herself, 
and hastened to meet them. 

Erie could see her give a hand to each and 
turning, draw them toward him. 

“Doctor Erie,” Marcia said as they met, 
“the Reverends Dean and Dealing.” Then 
she turned her face to Dr. Dealing. “ Some- 
thing is wrong. I have felt it all day. What 
is your message? ” 

Her face had become white and intense; 
the laughing light had all gone out and her 
eyes seemed burning. 

“ You always know,” he said. “ Mrs. Dun- 


76 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


can lias been thrown from a carriage and 
liurt. She is unconscious. Mr. Duncan tele- 
grajihed for you and Dr. Erie.” 

Then turning to Erie he added : Dr. Gold- 
V, aith, the family physician, is too old to trust 
himself in a delicate operation, and such is 
needed ; he says it is concussion of the 
brain.” 

Erie felt keenly alert in an instant. He 
was somewhat excited by this unexpected 
summons from strangers. He knew Mrs. 
Duncan was Marcia’s close friend and the 
husband a connection of hers and Paul’s, 
and through them, no doubt, had learned of 
him. But he was astonished that he should 
have been chosen at such a moment. Had he 
known it. Dr. Goldwaith had heard of him 
through an old friend in the city and to him 
he owed the choice. 

Serious as the news was for Marcia and 
sympathetic as Erie was, he could but think 
how all this delicious idleness must now be 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


77 


left behind; but lie rejoiced in the thought 
that Marcia would still be near him. 

She had been swept i)ast comnionidaces 
and completely overwhelmed by the news, 
she vudked on with Dr. Dearing silently for 
a while, that intense look upon her face, then 
she asked: 

“ Is the little mother with you. Dr. Dear- 
ing? I would like so much to see her.” 

Yes, she is waiting for you at the house.” 

‘‘And you. Dr. Dean , do I lose the treat of 
seeing you?” 

“My dear, I fear you must go at once,” 
said Dr. Dearing. “ We think you had better 
take our carriage and we will wait here until 
its return to-morrow. It is too important 
that you should reach there, to allow of your 
waiting for the morning train. Samuel 
knows the horses he will drive, and we think 
you should reach there before midnight.” 

They were by the house now, and Marcia 
waited to hear no more, A little, calm faced. 


78 


A A\A)MAX OF TO-DAY. 


gray -haired woman stood Avith Paul awaiting 
them. 

Marcia went to her and put her arms 
around her and kissed her. 

. Little mother, you were so good to 
come.” 

Mrs. Dearing kissed her lovingly and said, 
“ I thought you would be glad to see me; but 
oh ! I wish I might have come Avithout such 
sad news.” And she drew Marcia away with 
her toward the house. 

There Avas a hasty supper, a hurried pack- 
ing, and Erie found Marcia c*lose by his side 
and Paul seeing to the robes, for the evenings 
were chilly, and then amid a chorus of 
friendly voices the carriage was driven off. 

No apology is needed for the fact that 
these two young natures in less than one 
month had come to love each other. It was 
in the natural order of things, their mutual 
love for Paul had revealed them to one an- 
other before they had met, though as yet 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


79 


neither of them had awakened to the actual 
existence of love. 

In all true love the intellectual and spiritual /^f 5 
elements rule. Marcia, as Erie now knew, was 
a woman of no mean intellectual powers, but 
they were subservient to the spiritual in her. 

This it was which put her in sympathy 
with all honest, simple natures and led them 
to say of her that she was not only a woman 
of strong intellect, but also that she possessed 
a great heart. 

Yet now, this woman, with her intellectual 
percex^tions all quickened, sat beside him, 
blind to a love she would liave recognized 
quickly enough, if it had not touched herself. 

Why does the naturrd inborn coquetry of 
a woman lead her to rejjel when she longs to 
attract? May it not be because so much 
more hangs on a woman’s yes,” which seals 
her final surrender, than ever attaches to a 
man’s offer of marriage? 

With the best of men there is an uncon- 


80 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


scions reservation of thought and feeling, in 
every picture they form of themselves after 
marriage. But a good woman feels that the 
very fountains of her thoughts may be 
changed by the nature of the man she 
chooses. 

The old driver on the front seat knew and 
loved Marcia well, and he pnidently deter- 
mined to turn a deaf ear to anything which 
might be said throughout this long night’s 
drive, however he might be tempted to catch 
the drift of their conversation. Was it not 
already well known to those who had seen 
them together, that this talented young 
doctor Avas very much in love wdth their 
Marcia ? She might not know it, no one 
thought she did yet, but every one else 
knew it ; as for her, they were not sure that 
she would care for him, even by-and-by 
when she should learn it from him. Of 
course it was expected that he would care 
for her. Who could help it ? 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


81 


Old Samuel chuckled to himself, “I 
wonder if he thinks nobody knows it ? I 
know it. What’s an old body like me ? He 
didn’t care if I did see him looking after her 
the last time I was down there, the day she 
took the wild roses from him over the fence. 
Oh, but I have eyes if they are old ones.” 

Samuel’s thoughts were suddenly inter- 
rupted; they had jolted over a rolling stone 
and the road grew rapidly worse. Samuel 
had no more time for speculation, for an 
hour. 

Erie and Marcia had tacitly consented to 
put away for the time any expression and, 
as far as they might, any thought of the sad 
mission on which they were bent and to 
enjoy this unexpected ordering of things as 
a sort of fortification for the days of care 
and anxiety to come. They had put them- 
selves in possession of all that was known of 
Mrs. Duncan’s case and were prepared to 
meet any emergency. 


82 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


These few hours lying in between, before 
any possible help could be rendered, must 
be spent together and that fact brought to 
Erie a greater ecstasy than he would have 
thought possible under such circumstances. 
As for Marcia, her intense mood had so far 
relaxed that she was aware of herself once 
more and knew she was being taken posses- 
sion of by a potent force which was delight- 
fid. As to what it might portend she was 
all uncertain as yet. 

What did that strange thrill mean that 
seemed to link his presence to hers ? Did 
she love ? 

It had crept slowly into Erie’s conscious- 
ness that this exquisite woman had entered 
every recess of his nature, and that life 
would not be life without her love. 

They talked easily enough about anything 
or nothing for a while, then they sang softly 
song after song together, until Samuel, over- 
come by the charm of the music and the 


A WOMAK OF TO-DAY. 


83 


lateness of the hour, nodded drowsily on the 
front seat, while the well-trained, intelligent 
horses, who hardly needed his guiding hand 
upon the reins, kept steadily onward. 

They quoted thoughts here and there from 
books they loved and then a silence fell upon 
them. A silence during which the lingering 
color in the sky dropped suddenly back into 
the darkness behind it, and the gloaming^ 
vanished into the night, and the stars 
gleamed brightly. 

Marcia was seeking some new way of 
escape from the soul of this man, which she 
felt was pursuing her. Another woman 
might have tarried for him, but, as for Mar- 
cia, her spirit must be seized and mastered 
by the sweet force of the man who was to be 
her lord, before she would rest contentedly 
beside him. 

The fragrance of the laurels swept up to 
them, as they rode. The leaves swayed 
gently around them. The stars were glori- 


84 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


ons above them, yet no word found utterance 
upon their lips. 

Erie began to sing again. 

“Now the danger’s past,” thought Marcia. 
But what are these words? Yes, she knows: 

“ Through the leaves the night winds, moving, 
Murmur low and sweet.” 

How exquisitely true is his voice ! 

All the way through he sings it, never 
turning to look at her, sitting so still beside 
him, yet with each new note full of such 
tender passion that she must feel it is for her. 

“ All the stars keep watch in heaven, 

While I sing to thee, while I sing to thee. 
And the night for love was given. 

Dearest, come to me.” 

Now he is looking at her; he is reaching 
out his hands to her; he is waiting for her 
eyes to meet his own ; he is folding her hands 
in his as he sings; 

“ And the heart for thee is yearning, 

Bid it, love, be still 
Bid it, love, be still.” 

The song has ceased and he is murmuring 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY^ 


85 


to her words which forever bind their souls 
together, for the clasp of his loving hands, 
and the tender pleading of his voice has 
revealed to her hov/ truly, how deeply, how 
sincerely she has grown to love him, while 
wondering just what name to give to her 
emotion. 

The time was passing quickly and they 
would soon go out of this tender, love-lit com- 
panionship, teeming with happy fancies and 
emotions, and lose for a time their hold on 
each other in the sorrow of this household 
into which they were going. 

A late moon was coming up from behind 
the soft clouds as they drew rein beside the 
old home of the Duncans. 

Marcia led the way softly toward the back 
of the house, and trying the latch found it 
still unfastened, and so, deftly opening and 
shutting the massive door of heavy oak 
plank, which had swung back and forth upon 
all the daily going in and out, for genera- 


86 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


tions, she took Erie into a quaint old square 
room where a lire of smouldering logs burned 
upon the immense hearth, and flitting noise- 
lessly through one of the many doors, left 
him alone. 

He had seized her for a moment and pressed 
a hasty kiss upon her lips before, blushing, 
she had hastened away from him. He gazed 
into the glowing depths of the fire before 
him. It was not long before she came back 
bringing Mr. Duncan and Doctor Goldwaith 
with her and after introducing Erie, she stole 
to her own room and putting on a soft gown 
took her place by Hester’s bedside. In pass- 
ing she had looked in to see if the children 
were asleep and determined that the morrow 
should see them safe with their grandmother 
Duncan. 

The case was one which required all of 
Erie’s hard-earned skill. But at last the 
danger was over. The operation had been 
successful and after five days of constant 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 87 

care and watching, Hester Diincan was con- 
scious, but it would be months before she 
could take up her duties again, and Erie and 
Doctor Goldwaith were imperative in saying 
all care must be laid aside. 

Marcia was the only one to assume the 
vacant position in the household, and this 
she consented to do, but not without keen 
pangs of disappointment. She had looked 
forward to the return to the happy life on 
the mountain, when Erie and she would learn 
to know and understand what this love 
meant which had come thus into their lives, 
and now, it could not be. And they had not 
seen each other alone in all these days, but for 
a few moments, and Erie had not spoken 
again of love, though he had looked it and 
every touch of his hand had been tender. 
Marcia had grown somewhat cold, for fear 
she had yielded too readily, and Erie was 
silent because he fancied she regretted what 
had passed, and so things went all wrong, as 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


they always do when two people love each 
other in a first, sudden passion. 

Now that Hester Duncan was getting 
slowly better, Marcia would steal out into the 
old haunts of her girlhood, trying to deter- 
mine just what had gone wrong. But these 
self-communings only ended in a burst of 
tears which brought no enlightenment. She 
always chose a time when Erie was safe in 
the library with Mr. Duncan, because he 
might think she wanted him to go. 

“He need not go if he does not want to,” 
she would say to herself, as though he had 
any choice in the matter, not knowing her 
mind. Perverse womanhood ! 

Mr. Duncan would not hear of Erie’s leav- 
ing, although it was the first of June. And 
he was glad to linger, hoping for some 
further chance of a better understanding 
with Marcia. He had been too morbidly 
sensitive until now to do as he would once 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


89 


have advised another to do — request an in- 
terview and learn the turth. 

But at last his stay reached a limit — he 
could not go away in this uncertainty. He 
went up to Hester’s room and asked for 
Marcia. She had gone for a short row, 
Hester said, surprised that he was not with 
her. He surely could not miss her if he fol- 
lowed; the landing was so near; so, happy in 
his hope of clearing up all doubts, he hurried 
down the hill to the smooth green bank, with 
its grand old trees gnarled and twisted by 
the growth and floods of centuries, and there 
he stood watching anxiously for some sign 
of the boat or Marcia. By-and-by it came in 
sight, around a bend. He would go to meet 
her; he would beg her to be her own sweet 
self again. But she was not alone. A flne- 
looking young man in a blue flannel suit 
was pulling the oars, and as Erie stood watch- 
ing, said something to Marcia and took a 
bunch of wild flowers from his hat and gave 


90 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


them to her. She put them to her lips in a 
careless happy way and fastened them to 
her belt. Erie did not know why, but the 
scent of English violets seemed to rush over 
him. He felt his face growing pale, and his 
teeth set tight together and then in a mad, 
blind way he turned and walked away. But 
Marcia had seen him. 

“ Br. Erie,” she called, “ are you wanting 
me? Is Mrs. Duncan worse? ” 

“No thought for me,” thought Erie, “fool 
that I have been.” 

Well, he would end it now. To kiss that 
fellow’s flowers. Those violets, too, of long 
ago. He had sent them of course. He met 
her as she came up the bank with such a 
hard, cold look upon his face that Marcia 
quailed for a moment, then a stricken, feaiful 
look came into her face, appealing mutely to 
the man who had so lately won her. But 
Erie was too blind with imaginary wrongs to 
see it. In a cold, strained voice he said; 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAV^. 


91 


Good-by, Miss Hunt, I leave to-night.” 

He had suddenly determined to take a 
night train for the city. 

Marcia equally proud and sensitive, paled 
perceptibly, but said coolly: 

Shall we see you again soon, Doctor? ” 
She too would be ice. 

‘‘No, I think not. Pray do not let me 
detain you from your pleasure,” he said and 
strode up the bank. 

“O Mark! he saw me kiss these flowers. 
I know he did, that is what it means.” And 
Marcia flashed such a look of desperate dis 
appointment on the face before her, that one 
might have i)itied the man. 

“ AVell, why shouldn’t you kiss my flowers,” 
said Mark; “I love you, don’t you love 
me? ” 

“Oh, yes, but not that way.” And the 
utter hopelessness of the man’s love was ap- 
parent to him as it had never been before. 
His face blanched, but in a moment he said: 


92 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


“No, of course not that way, but I did not 
know, you did not tell me.” 

“ Mark, you do love me,” she said, tears 
filling her eyes. She sat down upon the 
bank wearily, and Mark stood beside her; 
his hand being close to her, she took it in 
hers and laid her cheek upon it. The man’s 
control was great, but she was taxing it too 
far; she had long taken his love for granted. 
He was yet a boy to her. Year after year 
they had been together. 

The two Marks they were called, in token 
of the almost boyish comradeship between 
them. Every action of his life was weighed 
in the scales of her friendship. 

His mother had been long dead; he lived 
with his father, AVilliam Barrow, on the farm 
adjoining the Duncans’. 

Marcia of late years had demanded mucli 
from him. He must give up his old ways, 
his old thoughts, old associations, if he would 
keep her friendship. In fact, she had taken 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


93 


it upon herself to keep uppermost that which 
was noble in him, repressing by her counsel 
those tendencies which were for the worse. 
He had been grateful to her for this. It was 
more .than any one else would have done for 
him, and he loved her for it. 

Not as Erie loved her. Mark felt it a re- 
ligious duty to restrain any expression of 
his love, she was so high above him, she 
would not understand that he was a man 
with the same passionate yearnings as other 
men. Never mind, she should not know. 
He had conquered himself before, he would 
do so now. 

Marcia, unconscious of his struggle, at last 
looked up. The white purity of his face 
astonished her. 

What is it, Mark, why do you look so? ” 
She sprang up beside him and placed her 
hands upon his shoulders, “ What is wrong, 
Mark? ” she asked tenderly. 


94 


A WOUA^ OF TO-DAY. 


“Everytliing is wrong,” lie said. ‘‘Good- 
by.” 

He stooped quickly, kissed her hand and 
in a moment was gone. 

She turned and climbed the hill to the 
house; she could not believe that Erie would 
go without seeing her again, but she waited 
in vain for a message from him, and as the 
hours crept by she at last realized that he 
had gone. 

Oh, the dreary, dreary dragging of the 
days in the week which followed! 

Erie Avrote to the Duncans, but never a 
Avord for her. It seemed as though she could 
not live through it. She could hot eat. She 
did not sleep and such a sad jiained look had 
come into her eyes that the Duncans won- 
dered AAdiat had occasioned Erie’s sudden 
departure. 

Hester Duncan knew that all was not well 
with her, but she knew also that it Avas not 
best to intrude Avith words upon any mood 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


95 


of Marcia’s. It was a belief of hers that true 
friendship needs no such medicine for ex- 
pression. 

And in all their love they had proved it to 
each other. Hester, weak as she was, saw 
and felt for her friend. She knew that some 
great grief was upon her and she guessed the 
cause. 

Marcia felt she was of but little value to 
any but these three, Paul, Hester and Mark, 
and strove to yield a more perfect service of 
love to them, that, in their appreciation, she 
might regain her lost self. 

But at last she wrote: 

^‘Oh, Erie! what have I done?” That was 
all. She thought ; Now he must speak,” and 
I)erhaps she might make him see things in 
the true light. 

She was Mark’s friend, and that because 
he needed her. There was no one else to 
help him if she took her love away, and she 
was sure it was only the love God coni- 


96 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


iiianded for one’s friends. Surely Erie would 
see this. If she took this love away from 
Mark, what then ! She dared not think ; she 
knew the restraining power she exerted over 
him. She knew too well just what his life 
would be without her. Certainly not good. 
He had never made friends among the best 
people, under the best influences. He had 
f always yielded to a certain mistrust of him- 
self, which had led him away from good 
women, when they would have befriended 
him, and out among the men of the neigh- 
borhood, who could boast but little height of 
soul or purpose. There would be nothing 
but horses, betting and drinking to flJl up 
the restlessness of his goings and his com- 
ings. Could she but keep, a little longer, her 
liold uj^on him, she might see him fixed in 
new tastes, new associations, new attachments. 
All this was very near now, she thought. 
Mark was letting himself respond more to 
tlie friendly notice of some of the good 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


97 


women who knew him, and he had mingled 
with the church folks once or twice on public 
occasions of late. 

After long days of waiting came these 
words from Erie: 

^^The scent of violets had grown dear to 
me. It is now hateful. You must know the 
reason. I can say no more.” 

Marcia struggled with her pride for a day 
and then wrote : 

I had given you so much, Erie, that what 
I gave him seemed nothing. He understood. 
I am his friend, nothing more. He needs me. 
Do not take me altogether from him. I may 
not let even you do that, just yet. Have 
you no faith in me? ” 

A little note neither dated or signed. She 
sent this out on its mission. 

And Erie blind with his unreasoning jeal- 
ousy, saw but one sentence. These words 
alone meant anything to him: 


I may not let even you do that.” 


98 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


The end had come then. He wonld go 
back to Europe; he would give volunteer 
work in the worst fields. He threw the poor 
little missive aside, without a second read- 
ing. This is what he sent back: 

Keep your friend. I will not try to take 
you from him.” 

It was Mark Avho gave Marcia this missive. 
In the neighborly fashion of the country, he 
had brought the day’s mail and this ha]3- 
pened to be in it. 

He had chosen to see but little of Marcia 
since that day on the bank by the water. A 
few notes had passed between them. Marcia 
urging him to be always true to his best. 
He, promising to try, and, speaking of some 
business proposition which had come from a 
distance and which he thought of accepting. 

The idea had come to him, and he could 
no longer put it aside: “If Erie has lost 
Marcia, may I not win her? ” 

He felt that her love would give him 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


99 


strength to become whatever she would 
desire and he knew his weaknesses. Poor, 
poor fellow; He hardly knew how high 
were the limits of possibility which Marcia 
had set for him, and even those were nowhere 
near the nature she could link herself to. 
Looking at her now as he handed her the 
letter he saw the eager, hungry eyes she 
turned uj)on it. 

“ Read it,” he said and turned away, gazing 
down from the porch steps where he stood, 
over the Eden-like beauty of the wooded 
fields and hills stretching for miles before 
him. At last he turned — she was holding 
fast with both hands to the old-fashioned 
door, the upper half of which was open. Her 
eyes were shut and she was swaying as 
though she would fall. In an instant he 
forgot his own hurt. She was the best of 
life to him even if she was another’s. 

He sprang across the porch and taking her 
in his arms guided her to the sofa in the 


100 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


square old hall. He disliked a fuss. He did 
not know whether to call any one or not. 
He thought she had fainted, but no, she 
opened her eyes and closed them as though 
reluctant to become conscious again. Ten- 
derly he smoothed her hair back from her 
forehead. He took her hands and chafed 
them — by-and-by she smiled. 

“It is all right, Mark. I am your friend 
yet. You know — now go.” 

He will never know the sacrifice she is 
making to help him to the best that is in him. 

Mark was in one of those bodily and spirit- 
ual states wherein strong impressions are 
sometimes given and received by some 
strange power of magnetic currents. For 
days after leaving Marcia he was haunted 
by the look in her eyes when she took that 
letter. Then that white face and those closed 
eyelids and “ your friend yet.” 

He began to see how much she had done 
for him. Erie had demanded that she should 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


101 


give him up and she had refused. Could he 
permit this — was he so weak that he could 
let her spoil her life and Erie’s when she 
could never complete his? 

No, he would indeed prove to her his love. 

He would go far away, among new scenes 
and people and work out a new life for him- 
self, and then she would be free, and in some 
way Erie would know of it. 

Erie had written to the Duncans telling 
them he expected to sail soon, but Marcia 
had not yet been told. 

Mark, coming unexpectedly one evening, 
learned all this when he reached the house. 
He went into the cool west parlor, off the. 
square hall, fronting south, and lay down on 
the sofa near the window opening to the west. 

Soon he heard Marcia coming. He rose 
and went out to meet her. She stopped just 
inside the half-open door, Avhere she had 
stood that day when he had brought her the 
letter. 


102 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


“ Marcia,” he said, standing in front of her 
with his hat crushed under his arm and hold- 
ing out a handful of wild daisies, which she 
took silently, smiling her thanks, — “I have 
come to say good-by. I am going to-morrow. 
You have been my salvation. It is no fault 
of mine if I love you too well for my own 
peace of mind. I have not let you know it 
before by words, but I cannot help it now. I 
too, am a man like that other, jealous fool 
that he is.” 

“ Hush, Mark, no more. He was right. I 
have been blindly mistaken perhaps. Good- 
by. You will make yourself worthy of 
some good woman and God will send her to 
you. Don’t forget me, and remember that I 
shall always love and pray for you.” 

Marcia turned aside into the parlor, in 
which all was dim in the twilight. She threw 
herself on a chair by the window and put her 
face on her arms across the sill. 

The ideal had been very clear before her 


A WOMAK" OF TO-DAY. 


103 


and had shut out all hope of any personal 
happiness from her. She had done her duty, 
yet life was bare and empty. Something 
like this flashed into Marcia’s consciousness, 
as she sat there. By-and-by she said to her- 
self: “Does He not say, ‘Lo, I am with you 
alway.’ I will not despair, I will work.” 

She could not think Erie was lost to her 
forever, and, even had she known that, she 
would not have sent Mark from her. 

She faced all the possible consequences of 
her decision. She knew she loved Erie with 
a love precluding such a love for Mark. Erie 
had chosen to throw out the full strength 
of the best in him to win her, and through 
his determined, conscious presentation of his 
spirit to her he had aroused an enduring and 
life-giving love. 

A nobler spirit might have won her; a 
purer spirit have mated with hers more 
equally, but none of these had come to her. 
None had even recognized, with the peculiar 


104 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


recognition Erie had shown, the possibilities 
of her soul. 

Men — yes, good men, had asked her in mar- 
riage, but they had not known what they 
asked. She was a lovable woman and they 
sought her, but they had not come as Erie 
had come, showing her how the contact of 
souls might lift, inspire and purify, should 
she permit the ripening of friendship into a 
deeper emotion. 

She believed God had created for each soul 
an affinity, that somewhere she should find 
hers, and as soon as she was fitted to join 
him, God would reveal him to her. 

With Erie she felt a need of all her power. 
She felt that, beside him, she would grow 
and strengthen, and not last, with her, was 
the knowledge that he needed her strong 
X)erception of the unseen, to purify and en- 
no])le him. 

She accepted the fact that Erie alone, of 
all men, had awakened the most intense emo- 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


105 


tions of her being. Knowing and feeling all 
this, her decision was heroic. The courage 
which led her to stand firm in her support 
of Mark, in his weakness, because that sup- 
port was a work accepted before she knew 
the possible sacrifices involved, was the same 
courage which has made heroes ever since 
the world began, by self-sacrificing devotion 
to the duty of the hour in the face of all 
possible consequences. She was fulfilling the 
promise of the past. She had said, ‘^If I 
live, my life shall show some good done.” 

She believed all good done in the world 
was by the passing from one to another of 
the bread of life. The individual good of 
one in contact with another. 

If Erie was not willing to take his place 
beside her, without disturbing her relations 
already established in the spiritual world, 
then the time was not yet ripe for the union 
of their lives. 

She rose and began to pace back and forth 


106 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


through the long room. Sad, lonely and 
unhappy, yet clinging with all the strength 
of her soul to the ideal, she felt that the 
foundations of life were swaying beneath 
her. She threw herself upon her knees and 
prayed silently but passionately that God 
would speak to her; that He would help her 
to understand the right. 

Again she was on her feet pacing up and 
down in the effort to escape from the dark- 
ness around her, but the confusion of 
thought which beset her, threatened to en- 
gulf her in its hopelessness. An hour passed 
as she sought thus to regain that mastery 
over herself which would enable her to meet 
Hester as usual, and Marcia shrank even 
from her kindly inquiries. Never before had 
the sorrow of life assumed for her the guise 
of actual anguish as at present. Trials she 
had borne, to be sure, and tears were not 
unknown, but she was taking upon herself 
her first burden of actual misery. 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


107 


She felt the need of solitude to regain that 
mental equilibrium which made self-con- 
trol a possible thing. She must escape 
notice for a time and regain her wonted 
composure. She went ui) to her room and 
sat down at the table on which her j)ortfolio 
lay open. She touched her pen and yet did 
not take it up. 

There are times, as we all know, when 
under intense excitement, we find new powers 
revealed within us. Thought plays over a 
subject with a power of penetrating discern, 
nient hitherto unknown to us. We feel that, 
were we put to the test, even a fine creative 
power would be ours. Were the task de- 
manded we might bear some great bodily 
fatigue or accomplish some great mental 
labor. At such moments are revealed for 
our encouragement the true capabilities of 
our individual souls. And if we would but 
accept the revelation as an actual goal and 
press on patiently we should eventually 


108 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


attain to all that has been so suddenly fore- 
shadowed, but not until long after the com- 
ing of the revelation. 

In the average mind, thoughts do not 
shai)e themselves easily into words. The 
more complex and varied the suggestions 
which arise the more difficult it becomes to 
find clear expression for any one idea. 

Thus it was that Marcia’s soul seemed 
yearning to express something, but could not 
find relief in ordinary words. The crowd of 
new thoughts, old memories and throbbing 
emotions seemed a burden too great for her 
to bear. 

The impulse was strong within her to 
express the rhythmic throbbings of her aching 
heart, but she remembered former failures 
and hesitated; unfinished attempts at the 
expression of emotion in words less coldly 
joined than in ordinary prose. To-night she 
felt that passionate longing for expression 
driven back upon itself, rising again only to 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


109 


be forced back while she walked to and fro 
in her room, with white lips firmly closed 
over her set teeth. Her hands clasped each 
other convulsively; now and then her long 
fingers twined together back of her head, 
which pressed back against them, as though 
she were bracing herself for a struggle. Fin- 
ally she sank down upon the edge of her 
bed, her hands still clasjjed, hanging idly 
between her knees. 

“ Gone, gone forever,” she sobbed. I know 
it, I feel it. He has gone to those men across 
the sea, to live in an atmosphere of disease 
and death. He will try to forget me. He 
wishes to forget me. /He thinks me like all/ 
^ the rest/ save that the sin, the deceit is not so 
open. He believes that in me too are the 
evil passions which he thinks rule the world 
to-day. O God! How can I stand it,” she 
gasped, rising and pacing up and down the 
long room again. 

‘‘ Why do I love him ! Why did I think 


110 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


he loved me ! Where is the strength which 
was to prove a safeguard until true nobility 
should teach me love at its best! I despise 
myself! I love a man who flees from me be- 
cause — because — ” she stopped in her rapid 
walk and pictured again the scene as it must 
have api^eared to Erie. For an instant she 
softened toward him, then recalling his de- 
parture without one last word she gasped: 

I hate him ! I am stifling! I must have air! ” 

Quickly she let herself out, ran to the 
shore, sprang into the boat and pulled down 
the stream with short, impetuous strokes. 
Only when her blistered hands pained her 
did she drop the oars and, sinking down 
among the cushions in the bottom of the 
boat, she looked up at the moon shining 
calmly upon her. Then closing her eyes she 
prayed for that peace which passeth all un- 
derstanding, for that heavenly calm which is 
promised to souls aweary and wrung with 
anguish. 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


Ill 


Had God forsaken her? What had her 
life been that she should merit such suffer- 
ing? Must this ache remain forever? 

The hush of the night, the wan moon shin- 
ing so peacefully upon her, the lapping of 
the water against the boat — all seemed to her, 
at last, like the voice of nature saying to her 
as it had been said long, long ago, Peace, 
be still.” 

And Marcia realized that a quieter mood 
was stealing upon her; she was grateful and 
felt that once more it was her privilege to 
draw from the holy springs of comfort, which 
for a time seemed to have been denied her. 
Gently she lifted the oars and with quiet, 
regular strokes pulled back to the landing. 

Lighting her lamp she seated herself at 
her table and after toying for a few moments 
with her pen wrote: 

“O Love! To thee, with ceaseless yearning, 

My soul goes out, where’er thou art, 

Each tender thought to thee is turning, 

And fervent prayers fill all my heart. 


112 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


‘‘ To God’s ^ood work life may be given, 

Both thine and mine, and though the sea 
May roll between, the goal of Heaven 
Shines ever bright, and shines for thee. 

‘‘ O’er us hath roiled a wave of feeling, 

Too Heavenly dear, too sweet to last; 

Our inner lives to each revealing; 

The present closes o’er the past. 

“But tears are vain and vain repining; 

The clouds that lower above to-day, 
To-morrow show their silver lining; 

Good deeds shall chase all gloom away. 

“ The cup from which, at fullest measure. 

Thy soul, athirst, drank long and deep, 

Still holds for thee its priceless treasure, 

If ye the Master’s precepts keep. 

“ Peace in my soul then rests forever; 

I know and feel that love divine 
Shall fill our lives with high endeavor. 

And bring still closer thy soul and mine.” 

Marcia laid down lier pen, glanced over 
the lines she had written, folded the sheet, 
placed it in an envelope, sealed it, and open- 
ing her portfolio dropped it into a pocket 
and turned the key. 

Moving to the window she stood for a 
moment looking np at the stars, pale and 
worn, but on her face a spirituelle expression, 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY, 


113 


wMcli made lier radiantly beautif id^ and told 
of the victory which she had gained through 
that faith in Christ which had seemed so far 
away but one short hour before. 



■ ■- -A* 

. .r ^ 

^ -.vV, 


^ '--’d" ' X 

tV*''* ■ .1 • 



- . 

r ■ Bb^ ^ ^‘’ti 
• • !TijlF ^i> 


I ^ 









■rt 


rA'i 


K s 5 ;4a: ic^xfi ^ ,' ','/ 

*-• y^ '-L . ■ 


. . V 


»s^. 






«-■ * 
I •• ■ 


. . ‘ ^ ’ .*taS 

£.:i •^^■--^ A- f 


•v ,x 4 - ; ■*■•.. '/' -' fl • ■ 

.r '-*•' .. ..'-ji,,' 

‘ - ^ ' x« * _ 

V. t 

• x!^ 


4^^ 


. *:i 


4 »V 


ill 


-f -r \ 

,jV . - J 




\ 


w 


•.V' 




M" V Ti**** 
^ JP5 ' 








C3 


■r- 


V / 


»' • 


^ !«• 






V? 






I*;. 


4 . *•• 


»> 


r*i V .*. 






> « 






.* . ♦•, 




•'V. 


4 ^ 


> \ 


Vi 


'■K f^'j’ 'J 


» *••• 








r: 


j‘<j. 


^ X 






















jCJ 




fX 


9 




• <.• 


. f 


K >i 


• T • • • :•#«■ 


.V 


,y?* 


A»V 






*iv 




V 




<3 


-»^.V 


;-^i5 


:r -4 


) 


Jl 







r>^ j- • .* * ^ 


k/, . 'y?^; y, -,^ .:‘ ,C 


' - ■ 4 ^ *"'■ s 

S-t 


■ ■& 


'♦ 


*\v 




.vi:^ 




IX 








PART THIRD. 



“ The longing, the delay and the delight, 

Sweeter for the delay; youth, hope, love, death. 

And disappointment — which is also death. 

All these make up the sum of human life.” 

Longfellow. 

As a rule, women of this age are apt to 
come to an understanding of their own mo- 
tives earlier in life than men. The statement 
that they never know their own minds is a 
false one. They know only too well what 
they want, and because of this knowledge 
they develop into individuals much sooner 
than men. The calibre of the woman, even 
though it may be small, is fixed earlier in life 
than with man. 

Erie, though five years older than Marcia,, 
was much younger in development. As has 
been indicated, the tendencies of the man 
were, on the whole, toward the good, and ho 


118 A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 

had rested upon this knowledge in an in- 
active way. 

A superb self-assurance had apparently 
been the out-growth of this belief of his, 
that, given tendencies being right, the man 
would be good enough. 

Since knowing Marcia, there had often 
been very troubled depths in his thoughts, 
and this self-assurance was not as deeply 
rooted as it seemed. He had come to ac- 
knowledge an unexpected and rather un- 
welcome element in himself; an unbidden 
questioner, as it were, had arisen and chal- 
lenged him to a reconsideration of questions 
long since dismissed from his mind. He no 
longer felt himself securely anchored in the 
stream of life. He found that, would he 
regain his former ground of careless repose, 
he must first grapple with and overcome cer- 
tain questionings which had seized upon him, 
and would not let him go. 

Being without vicious tendencies, he was 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 119 

all the more apt to fall a victim to certain 
temptations, because he was not actively on 
guard against them. If at last he succeeded 
in ennobling this nature, which is common 
to all, by the reception of something better, 
and purer, and stronger, the story of his 
struggle and attainment may aid and en- 
courage others in what all will admit is 
inevitably before them. 

Young men may intrench themselves be- 
hind a bulwark of fallacies regarding each 
other and suppose they have sufficiently pro- 
tected and supported their individual rights 
as men, but the spirit of truth which is en- 
lightening this age is stronger than all the 
accumulative force of tradition and custom. 
Because one young man says of another: 
“Oh! he’s all right.” “Let him alone.” 
“ Men are men.” “ He is good enough as the 
world goes,” or some such evasive answer, 
which is intended to stand as a screen be- 
tween the weak and disappointing struggles 


120 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


with, temptation and the world; it does not 
follow that, unknown to the world, the spirit 
of truth is not making evident to the indi- 
vidual combatant the far-reaching and mo- 
mentous issues of each battle. They may de- 
ceive others, but few are themselves deceived. 
All, sooner or later, learn that there is good 
and evil in the world, and that, sooner or 
later, choice must be made, and that the 
choice is attended with a decided effort in 
placing themselves in an environment of 
good, or out of an environment of evil. 

The stronger the tendencies and the more 
sensitive the nature of the man, the less he 
cares to feel that his battle is perceived by 
indifferent or critical eyes. Yet, even to 
such, the suddenly revealed and silent sym- 
pathy of some good friend, man or woman, 
comes like a breath of life from heaven, 
strengthening and encouraging to renewed 
effort. 

A man, whose reputation for unselfish de- 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


121 


votion for the good of his sex may not be of 
the best, will, at times step out of his way, 
unobserved, as he thinks, to restrain from 
and draw out of an alluring temptation, 
some man whose knowledge of life is less 
extended than his own. 

He might not seek to avoid temptation in 
his own path, because he deemed that the 
sweep of the current, through habitual yield- 
ing, had become too strong for him, but he 
would so far acknowledge what had once 
been possible to himself that he would wish 
success to attend the efforts of another where 
he had failed. To such a man the possibility 
of resistance is still open. 

Erie’s nature was the result of a peculiar 
combination of elements, which, while con- 
tradictory in themselves, were coming to 
modify and regulate each other in him, until 
a certain Herculean force showed itself, when 
his energy was once fairly aroused. Joined 
to an ardent, sanguine temperament, he had 


122 A WOMAN OF TO-DAF. 

an inlierited, lazy love of that beauty which 
appeals to the senses ; harmony of color and 
form, and sweet sounds, with all that desire 
of ease which a love for the beautiful tends 
to develop in one. 

His career would probably have been vis- 
ionary and unpractical had not his puritani- 
cal training served in the double capacity of 
check and spur. 

All that generations of such training could 
bring him, through heredity, from his 
mother’s side of the house, was necessary to 
restrain the pleasure-loving impulses derived 
from his father, in whom these impulses 
might have become lawless had not his natu- 
ral integrity and purity of principle been 
strengthened by an iron will. But after all, 
what is the use of going back thus into what- 
ever may be the why and wherefore! Let 
each debt to heredity stand out, distinctly 
charged to its proper source, and we are yet 
confronted by the sum total of all, in the 


A AVOMAN OF TO-DAY., 


123 


person of the same man with" possibly an 
added touch of individuality at the last, 
which, by its presence, gives ns a new prob- 
lem in humanity. 

In Erie it would have been a difficult task 
to trace all the motives for his various 
actions. It is enough to present a truthful 
picture of the man as he would have appeared 
to any close observer during this period. 
Once taken possession of by this passionate 
jealousy, the very reaction from the usual 
sluggishness of his nature only made it still 
more furious. Since, through its influence, 
the senses were carried to extremes from 
which it Avas more difficult to regain their 
normal tone than might have been the case 
Avith a man of less intensity. 

Erie was more or less a man of the world. 
There is a saving clause in the statement, in 
the fact that he knew enough good men who 
were not of this sort, to have acquired a firm 
belief in, and admiration for their kind. But 


124 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


they had not yet led him to believe in their 
views of things. The opportunity for mak- 
ing a trip in the company of such a man led 
Erie to hasten his departure from New York. 

He had known Dr. Jacob Flagg as a prac- 
tising i)hysician, when he was a medical 
student. Flagg was, like many in his pro- 
fession, a philanthropist, in that he gave a 
great deal of work to people from whom he 
would never take pay. It was, he thought, 
the tithe he owed. Some men would have 
ended the sentence by saying, “ to humanity,” 
but Dr. Flagg, if he finished it all, would 
have added simply, “ to the Lord.” 

It was said in the matter of fact way which 
another man Avould have used if he had sub- 
stituted “my employer” or “ the company.” 
The man seemed giving an out and out work 
to the world and not caring greatly how 
much return he got for it just now. 

It was this earnestness and a happy assur 
ance that the return was sure to come, some 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY, 


125 


way or another, because the Creator’s ways are 
equal, that had drawn Erie to him, years ago. 

His only child, a daughter, had married. 
His wife was dead and his own health was 
better at sea than elsewhere; so he had 
become the surgeon of a ship, on one of the 
regular lines. Then, too, there was the chance 
of extra work among the steerage passengers 
and sailors. He did not always wait for 
people to tell him they were ill, but when he 
saw an ailing young mother or a too devoted 
daughter or an over-tried, sorry-hearted man, 
he would greet them in a kindly, sympathetic 
way, and with a tact very rare in men, draw 
from them their troubled stories and, with 
some little anecdote, in their own tongue, 
leave them with smiles upon their faces or 
tears in their eyes. 

It was next this man that Erie took his 
place at the long table, in the saloon, at the 
first meal on shipboard. Across the table 
and a little further down, sat two women. 


126 


A WOMAN OP TO-DAY. 


evidently mother and daughter. The younger 
one called the other “ Mrs. Moss,” and Mrs. 
Moss in turn called the younger one “My 
dear ” or “ My child.” Other evidence of the 
relationship was wanting. Though the lady 
addressed as Mrs. Moss was much older than 
the other, her color was so fresh, her laugh 
so gay, her manner so girlish, her face so 
free from care, that, but for a set of teeth a 
little too dead white and even, and an inclina- 
tion to grow stout, she might easily have 
passed for a woman of thirty and a sister 
instead of a mother. 

But if the mother’s face was free from all 
trace of care, her daughter’s was not so. 
There was an anxious uplifting of the eye- 
brows, a slight knitting of the brow between 
the eyes that betokened a constant state of 
anxious expectancy. 

This daughter’s name was Clara. 

Dr. Flagg was speaking to Erie and had 
called him by name, when the attention of 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


127 


the two men was first drawn to them by an 
exclamation from Mrs. Moss. 

‘‘Erie?” She repeated, turning to her 
daughter. “Can it be possible? Do you 
suppose that he can be the son of my dear 
friend Mrs. Erie, of whom you have heard me 
speak so often? ” 

There was a still higher lifting of the eye- 
brows, as Miss Moss caught the remark, in- 
tended not alone for her. She was very sure, 
if there ever had been any Mrs. Erie of her 
mother’s acquaintance, she had never called 
Mrs. Moss “ dear friend.” Ladies of culture 
were not apt to speak of her in that way, and 
Erie looked as though his mother must have 
been one. 

Still she said nothing. Mrs. Moss was a 
woman of strong fancies, swayed by impulse 
rather than reason, and her fancy had been 
attracted toward Erie rather more than 
toward any other man at the table. She had 
once met a Mrs. Erie, to whose politeness she 


128 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


owed one of the pleasantest half-hours she 
had ever spent among her own sex. They 
had met at a country sewing society to which 
Mrs. Moss had ventured, because she hap- 
pened to know she would encounter a certain 
gentleman there whom she wanted to see. 

Mrs. Moss had fastened upon Mrs. Erie as 
the most attractive person in the room, and, 
Mrs. Erie being a stranger, did her best to 
entertain one to whom she saw the others 
were none too kind. After the meal was 
over, Mrs. Moss worked her way to the door 
before Erie could reach it and extending her 
hand to him as he approached, said; 

“ I am sure your dear mother and I were 
friends, if I h^^ard your name correctly. Erie, 
is it not? ” 

Yes,” absented Erie. 

How much like her you look! ” 

Now Erie knew his likeness to his mother 
was not strong, but it pleased him, as Mrs. 
TJoss knew it would, to hear her say so. 


A WOMAN OF to-day; 


129 


He did not feel like denying the claim she 
made, because he was so lonely that any one 
who could speak of his mother to him was 
welcome. She walked beside him, chatting 
gayly, he responding in monosyllables, until 
she turned suddenly and drew her daughter 
into the conversation. 

‘‘You see, doctor, how I can feel for you 
since your mother’s death, for I said to 
myself as soon as I made up my mind who 
you were, ‘ suppose he were my Clara ; ’ I 
mean, you know, sux>pose she, poor child, 
were left all alone. Clara, I really think you 
would die.” Clara looked rather indifferent 
and acknowledged Erie’s bow a little too 
gushingly he thought. She took his hand 
in both hers and said, “ I am so glad to know 
you. Doctor Erie.” 

She concluded she might as well accept 
the dear-friend theory, since it did not seem 
incongruous to Erie. 

‘'Dear Mamma has so often told me of 


130 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


your mother that I feel I too knew her. 
What a charming person she must have 
been ! ” 

Up to this time Erie had not been un- 
pleasantly impressed by the two, but at this 
unhappy attempt at conversation, he re- 
coiled. Could his mother have been a “ dear 
friend ” to a woman like Mrs. Moss ; an 
unrefined, uncultivated, vain woman? He 
hardly thought so. 

The daughter was not entirely displeasing, 
but he wished she would discriminate better 
in her manner of speech. 

No one more companionable had yet ap- 
jreared, and Erie allowed himself to be 
dragged on, until he found himself ari’anging 
seats for them and was actually offering his 
services in one way or another. 

Very soon Mrs. Moss sent Cla a on an 
errand to her stateroom and used the oppor- 
tunity she had made to say: “My darling 
Clara is so sensitive and she is seldom at ease 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


131 


with strangers. I am so glad we have met 
you. Her trip be will so much more charm- 
ing.” 

It was well Clara did not hear this, as she 
would have found it difficult to look her 
part. 

This was the first time her mother had 
adopted just these tactics. HoAvever, Mrs. 
Moss was not lacking in discernment, and she 
saw Erie must be carefully baited before he 
could be caught for any kind of easy com- 
panionship as she intended. 

He excused himself after a time, and went 
in search of Dr. Flagg. 

“An old friend of your mother’s is she?” 
said Flagg when Erie joined him. 

“ I believe so.” 

“ See here, Erie, I never knew your mother, 
but I don’t think she would have chosen a 
woman like that for a friend.” 

“ Why, Flagg, perhaps she is not so bad — 
needs toning down, but good enough at heart. 


132 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


I guess. My mother may have been sorry 
for her.” 

Take my word, boy,” said the doctor with 
a twinkle in his eye, ‘‘ she needs the sorrow 
of any good woman.” 

Oh ! come on, Flagg. Let me go down 
below with you.” 

Doctor Flagg was only too glad to let Erie 
make his round with him among the steerage 
passengers. 

There were some babies quite ill and it 
was hot and stifling down there. The two 
men soon forgot the matter, busy with their 
charitable work. When they once more 
went on deck they had it to themselves. 
They smoked their cigars for a while, rather 
silently, and then: '^Let us turn in” came 
from Dr. Flagg, and Erie, because ho hoped 
he might forget, for a few hours at least, 
went too. 

The next morning, at breakfast, Erie was 
surjirised and not too well pleased to find 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. . 183 

that, in some way, Mrs. Moss had effected a 
change of seats at the table and now settled 
beside him, saying: ‘^Doctor, Clara is so 
homesick that I brought her over here where 
she would feel a little more among friends.” 

However, it was not Clara who sat beside 
Erie, but the mother. There was a new face 
across the table now, and as Erie looked up 
and saw the quiet repose upon it, the frank, 
questioning eyes, beneath the widow’s cap, 
he felt for one moment that his own mother 
was before him. And then too she smiled so 
sweetly to him when he showed her any 
slight courtesy, that he felt drawn out toward 
her at once. However, he could not be rude 
to these women who had made the first claim 
on him. 

He answered Mrs. Moss’ questions as 
pleasantly as he could, all the while hoping 
that her coarseness might escape the notice of 
the lady opposite, or at least that she might 
not associate him with them as a relative. 


134 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


He was glad when at last the meal was 
over. 

“ Doctor, we shall see you soon ! ” they 
exclaimed together as they left the table. 

“ I am afraid not this morning, ladies, 
Doctor Flagg has some work for me,” said 
Erie with cool politeness. 

“ Oh ! I hope there is no serious illness on 
board, is there ? ” Mrs. Moss exclaimed. 

“Some little babies among the steerage 
passengers are quite ill and the mothers are 
tired out, poor things.” 

Erie said this in hopes of hearing some 
offer of help from the two which would have 
pleased him, even if it had not been ac- 
cepted, but the offer was not forthcoming. 

“ Oh, we thought it might be something 
serious, something contagioiis,” said Mrs. 
Moss, as she and Clara passed out. Yet this 
woman was not void of good, generous im 
pulses ; they bent her to themselves at times, 
as they do all i)eople; but they failed to 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


185 


govern her life for lasting good. Impulses 
always do fail one sooner or later, if there is 
no pure actuating principle back of them. 

These two in most things worked for each 
other’s interest, excepting that there were 
times when Clara, doubtful of her mother’s 
policy, remained non-committal, till she knew 
how the other’s advances would be received. 
She was always ready to tack and apologize 
if necessary. One day when her mother had 
boldly stopped at the door of the captain’s 
room and intimated her desire to enter and 
examine its various appliances, packed with 
such skill in so small a space, ‘‘yet all so 
business-like, so cozy,” as she termed it, 
Clara was quick to discover the rebuff await- 
ing her if she persisted. The captain’s brow 
knit ominously and he stood with scant 
courtesy, silent, his pen suspended and his 
attitude threatening, till Clara, seeing there 
had been a mistake made, said : 

“Oh! Captain, mamma is so interested in 


136 


A WOMAK OF TO-DAV. 


all scientific works, you know, you must 
excuse her.” 

Then she piloted her mother off with th<« 
adroit suggestion that she thought she sav/ 
Erie on the other side of the vessel and 
perhaps he was looking for them. 

Erie had discovered how very slight must 
have been the ground on which Mrs. Moss 
based that “very dear friendship.” That 
device had long since ceased to attract him, 
yet there was a careless, inviting freedom in 
their company which was not without its 
charm to a young man, and Erie felt at lib- 
erty to make their companionship a con- 
venience without a troubled conscience. 

The mother was old enough to take care of 
herself and the daughter too, if she chose. 

There was no danger of his marrying either 
of them. Oh! dear, no. Every one knows 
how pleasant it is to receive the attention of 
a gentleman one likes, but most people would 
rather go without it than to make the strife ' 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


187 


after it apparent. This is only a little matter 
of training and disposition perhaps, but it 
cannot be overcome. Mrs. Moss and her 
daughter were not burdened by any inherited 
or acquired prejudices of this kind. They 
wanted to be amused and waited on and were 
willing to sacrifice such slight considerations 
as delicacy or truth, or other people’s con- 
venience, without for a moment thinking of 
them. As for Mrs. Moss, even Clara did not 
fully understand the mood upon her. 

Erie’s strong, young, magnetic beauty had 
drawn a more genuine admiration from this 
woman of fleeting attachments than was 
usual with her; and this woman, day after 
day, consumed by her selfish vanity, strove 
to draw Erie into associations from which all 
that was best in him shrank with distaste. 

The poor young mothers down below had 
learned to welcome Erie’s coming, for often 
he would take the poor, little, sulf.ring, 
moaning babies up in his strong arms and 


138 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


carry them tip and down the narrow passages, 
or rock them back and forth till they slept 
in his arms, but in spite of the attention, on 
the fifth day out, one of the babies died. 

It was the mother’s only child and she was 
alone. Erie stood looking at the broken 
hearted, sobbing mother as the little bodj 
sank forever out of sight, in the sea. He was 
thinking how beyond control were so many 
of life’s affairs, and feeling how gladly he 
would have changed places with that little 
dead baby if he could. He cared so little 
what came next, and the restoration of that 
child would bring so much happiness to the 
mother’s heart. 

It was starlight when he went up on deck, 
and as he stood smoking at the rail, a touch 
was laid upon his arm. Very close beside 
him stood Mrs. Moss, who said, laughing and 
pouting: 

“ Really, Erie, I fancied those women with 
their dead babies had quite won you from me.” 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 189 

O ye good women ! forgive her if you can. 
O ye mothers ! like the one whom God had 
given to Erie, find pity for her in your 
hearts, if you can. You whose true, tender 
faces, as they pass through a crowded room or 
along the busy street, make the whole world 
cleaner and better for the passing glimpse, 
have mercy upon her in her unfaithfulness 
to the daughter she had borne. 

But she failed signally in her j^art just 
here. She could not guess the battle raging 
in the heart of the man beside her. In the 
stern silence which followed, she saw that 
she had erred. 

She turned her face away and loosening a 
handkerchief from the folds of her dress, she 
feigned the tears, which she hoped would 
move the man’s nature. 

It was a little thing to turn the current of 
this strong man’s life, but as she held the 
filmy stuff against her face the breeze caught 
from its folds the delicate scent of English 


140 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


violets; brought it to Erie’s senses and for 
the moment stunned him, as though a hand 
had been laid upon his heart. 

The memory of a strong, pure, beautiful 
face, full of love, rose up before him. The 
breeze of the hills blew over his brow and 
whatever influence the woman at his side 
may have gained, it was gone forever. She 
had been playing a skilful game, but she had 
lost. 

At that moment, Erie realized how the 
meshes of the net she had spread for him 
had been one by one closing around him, and 
gasped at the possible consequences had not 
his awakening come at the right time. 

He uttered no reproaches; he spoke no 
word of the evil she had almost brought upon 
him. He was an American and Americans 
are slow to utter the thoughts which shai^e 
their actions ; slow to reveal the motive power 
behind their actions ; still slower in permit- 
ting the purity of their souls to look up 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


141 


against the evil which would drag them 
down. 

With scant courtesy, Erie almost staggered 
away from the side of the woman who was 
temx)ting him to forget all that was i)ossible 
for good in his life. He reeled and almost 
fell. He steadied himself and went on over 
the long, silent deck, to the comi)anion way. 
As he drew near to the door of the cabin. 
Doctor Flagg met him. 

What’s the matter, Erie?” Then he saw 
a woman’s figure pass outside. ‘‘ That devil,” 
he muttered to himself. 

He took Erie’s arm and led him into his 
own stateroom. 

‘‘ Now boy, it’s all right,” and he drew his 
hand gently across Erie’s forehead, standing 
beside the berth on Avhich he was lying. 

“All right? I wish to Heaven it were,” and 
Erie, at the touch, gentle as a woman’s, and 
the tender tone, turned upon his face and 
unrestrained by the jjresence of others, shook 


142 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


with convulsive sobs. Who shall say, but 
that in this hour of contrition, the angel 
face of his mother bent over him in tender 
compassion! Who shall say that Marcia’s 
spirit did not stand beside him, to encourage 
and strengthen him. The spirit from the 
future, and the sjurit from the present met, 
perhaps, beside the soul they loved and the 
powers of evil lied befoi’e them. 

You, who would challenge the truth as it 
stands, have yet to learn that it is not the 
full truth of a battle fought and won, of a 
spirit tempted but victorious, which can 
harm the world, but the petty cavilling, which 
would keep such struggles unrevealed. The 
poor half-truth which pretends to hide Avhile 
it reveals the weakness of our natures, but 
denies the glory of the victory which seeks 
to voice itself. 

You, who would say the truth has not 
been told as it is, have yet to learn that there 
are yet xinrevealed depths in God’s truth, 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


143 


which only your own x>overty of spirit shuts 
you off from entering into and beholding. 

And you, blessed mothers, God aid you in 
giving to the world those treasures, precious 
above the price of rubies, good, true, tender, 
loving men and women. 

It was well on in the night, when Erie, 
with the look upon his face that long sick- 
ness sometimes gives, and a contest of the 
spiritual and earthly always brings, rose up 
and bade Doctor Flagg good-night. 

Before Erie went out he said: ^^To think 
that I should have set myself up as Marcia’s 
judge.” 

“My boy,” said Flagg, looking at Erie 
searcbingly and kindly, “ if you have learned 
your lesson, go back to her as soon as you 
can. The love of a truly good woman is not 
easily won, but once gained it is not easily 
lost. Before taking steps of vital import- 
ance, it is well to be sure you have certainly 
lost that love,” 


144 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


It was not princij)le wliicli led Erie to 
resist the fascinations of this woman. The 
resistance came at last involuntarily. His 
mood had changed. He was in that blind 
whirl, beyond the limits of reason, where his 
only rescue lay in an appeal to the senses. 
The appeal came and it did for him what 
cool reasoning would have failed to do. It 
led to a victory; but if temptation again 
should beset him it would be reason which 
would resist it, because of the assurance 
gained of what was possible for him, and 
after a time reason would grow into a fixed 
principle which would shield him so that at 
any time he might withdraw from it, through 
the ever-open way of escape, into an environ- 
ment of truth and divine love. 

The next day was the Sabbath and Doctor 
Flagg, who often read the service, was re- 
lieved by the young clergyman who had 
read the burial services for the dead baby. 

He was on his way with his wife to visit 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


145 


her family in Germany, and as there were 
but few passengers, they had come to know 
and be known by nearly all on board. Mr. 
arid Mrs Perry were a noticeable couple; 
he, for a physique strikingly proportioned, 
large, powerful and well developed, a noble 
head and a face with as sweet and pure a 
soul looking out of his fine eyes as a man 
ever bore; she for a captivating loveliness of 
manner and far-reaching sympathy which 
penetrated to every heart. She had been so 
full of devices for the general comfort and 
amusement of the passengers, so full of 
bright laughter, and general good cheer, that 
the Captain had said he would run ten trips 
to carry one such passenger. 

Erie was curious to know what this young 
divine, who looked the man, might have to 
say to these different souls. A few plati- 
tudes probably, a few trite thoughts of no 
new import to him. 

It was too much to expect that this man 


146 


A AVOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


should have anything to say which might 
affect him, yet he Avas craving anew that 
purifying spiritual atmosphere he had left 
behind him with Marcia, and his voice 
attracted him. 

Erie dreAv up to the outside of the group 
where he could Avatch the play of his features 
and catch each Avord. The singing had 
already stirred him. At sea, thus, in the 
open air, with the men’s voices (even his 
own) joining so heartily, he felt the spirit of 
the hour moving him to an almost involun- 
tary and instinctive act of worship. Mr. 
Perry lifted his hands in an attitude of 
prayer. Erie boAved his head. 

“Father, Thou Avho boldest this ship in 
thy hand and dost permit her to ride in 
safety uijon the bosom of the vast ocean. 
Thou in whose hands are the issues of life 
and death ; bless us now. 

“ Thou AA^ho didst create us in thine own 
image — Thy sons — Sons o: God; Thou who 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


147 


hast taken of Thy divine nature and made it 
ours ; who hast enshrined in the temple of 
our bodies Thy soul, lean now down to us, 
in tender pity and love. 

In pity that in ignorance we oft defile and 
profane these bodies which should be Thy 
dwelling place. And in that everlasting, 
tender love Thou hast made possible to us, 
draw us unto Thyself, that we may partake 
of the privileges of Thy sons once more, and 
so receive anew by acts of faith and love Thy 
gift of inheritance. 

Bless us, cheer us and forgive us this hour 
for Jesus’ sake. Amen.” 

Was it the speaker’s magnetism or a 
homelier way of putting things than is usual, 
that drew Erie into complete sympathy with 
the mood of the man? He began to see 
clearly what had, until now, been a con- 
fused mass of mental and spiritual sugges- 
tions. 

The living truth began to formulate itself 


148 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


in his mind and his soul to become a known 
quantity. 

He listened eagerly, yes anxiously for that 
which was to come. Then this young clergy- 
man, simply, earnestly, and without a trace 
of the mannerism so apt to mar the truth, 
began to speak. 

“ Friends, has it ever occurred to you why 
we men enter the ministry? Why we, Avho 
are your brothers, dare to stand before you 
to instruct?” 

Yes, that had often occurred to Erie. He 
fell into a reverie and for a while heard, but 
did not listen to the words of the preacher. 
When at last he aroused, Mr. Perry was 
saying in those clear tones: 

“If we are pure in heart, what does it 
mean? How shall we know if we are pure iii 
heart? It is known by its singleness of 
purpose, by the desire for truth and upriglit- 
ness above all else. A desire so strong that 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


149 


all would be sacrificed which might come 
between our souls and God. 

‘^Any soul which has reached this point of 
self-renunciation must attain to a knowledge 
of the truth ; must see God, who is truth, and 
through Him become pure in heart, for so 
God has promised.” * 

Then Erie lost the thread of the talk again 
as he looked down into the depths of his own 
heart. 

A year before he would have turned in- 
differently from any statement which could 
have affected the basis on which any action 
of his rested. Now his whole heart was 
enlisted in this spiritual quest. It had 
always been the negative side of spiritual 
things which had been presented to him, 
now the positive appealed to him. 

The soul, fed with the Bread of Life, can 
rend the veil, and at last man stands, forget- 
ful of the fiesh, confronting God. 

‘‘Let us purify and make heavenly, the 


160 A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 

aspirations of our souls by worthier sacrifices, 
by the sacrifice Christ made, the sacrifice of 
the will of the body to the will of God. 
When the will of the body would draw us 
into the commission of some sin against the 
life of the soul, let us sacrifice the will of the 
material to the will of the immaterial in us. 
This is what has been made possible to us by 
the death of Christ.” 

Thus he spoke and as the words fell from 
his lips, the veil wdiich had so long hung 
over Erie’s soul, began to drop away, his 
instinctive perceptions of the good began to 
return, and he felt that in time he might 
come to know the divine as Marcia knew it. 

This knowledge no longer represented the 
undesirable in life, for, through it, all things 
became ennobled and life was transformed 
into a glorious day. Then came this, in 
closing: ♦ 

“ Every one of us may enter into the holy 
communion with God which he has vouch- 


A womans" of TO-i)AY. 


151 


safed, by doing this day His will. Holding 
to the truth because it is truth, according to 
each one’s own individual perception of it. 
And believing that as surely as you would 
receive an invisible current of electricity, 
when in the proper relations, just so surely 
will you receive this promised current of 
divine life — vitality of body as well as soul — 
if you will but touch, by your acts, that ever- 
lasting fountain of all life, Christ the truth. 

“ The world has learned how to handle and 
control the many invisible material agencies 
abroad in it, so by constant endeavor it must 
learn how to utilize the immaterial. He, 
who has made all else, stands ready to renew 
both body and soul, and make us again sons 
of God. Amen.” 

One after another they quietly turned and 
walked away. Silence fell upon the long 
deck; not a sound was heard, save the wash 
of the waves against the ship’s sides. 

To Erie, in those few moments, had come a 


152 


A WOMAN OP TO-DAY. 


revelation. He sought his stateroom and fell 
upon his knees. He asked for that divine 
light which should make clear his path. He 
prayed for that purity of heart which should 
make him a worthy laborer in the field of 
the Lord. It was not that Mr. Perry had 
been so impressive, for there were others who 
had heard him and who had not heeded, but 
in Erie’s case the soil was ready for the 
seed and it had brought forth an hundred 
fold. 

God often draws his ministei’s on to speak 
even wiser than they know. And so it had 
been this day. AVhen Erie went again to 
the steerage with the doctor, the poor young 
mother who had lost her baby looked at him 
in vague wonder. 

AVas the man with those determined, shin- 
ing eyes, the same who had turned from the 
sea, when the water closed over her baby, 
with a look of tired indifference, dishearten- 
ing to her, to whom he had tried for days to 


A WOMAN OF TO-BAY. 


158 


give a hope ? She thought it could not be. 
“ The hidden man of the heart ” had already 
sprung into life and was visible in Erie’s 
face. Marcia’s dream of bettering the world 
was being realized. 

AVhen a man like Erie passes through an 
experience in life which disturbs all his pre- 
conceived ideas of himself ; when all the fresh 
tenderness of his heart has been revealed to 
him as Erie’s had been, if it has been because 
of some fault of his own, he finds an impulse 
of penitence seizing upon him, which shows 
how the child still lives in the man. Erie 
wanted to go back and throw himself down 
on his knees by Marcia and beg her to for- 
give him. He felt this when he left Doctor 
Flagg that night; but when morning came 
the man’s way of looking at things had par- 
tially returned to him. He said to himself, 
I will wait awhile and see what this new 
impulse means. I will recover myself before 
I go back to her.” 


164 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


So he ran up to Scotland and then went 
here and there, yearning to return to Marcia, 
yet striving vainly to revive the old anger 
against her, though he did not admit this 
even to himself. 

All the time he found himself thinking 
how sweet and happy had been those weeks 
on the hills, among the rocks, and the sweet 
ferns, across the sea, where the spring sun- 
light had seemed to draw all the best of him 
to the surface, w’here new life and expression 
had burst forth just as the buds and blos- 
soms do, rejoicing at the return of the life- 
giving atmosphere. 

At last he could bear the restraint no 
longer. He said “good-by” to every one 
and returned to New York. 

Doctor Goldwaith had written that he 
would be glad to see Erie filling his place. 
He wanted to retire gradually, and a partner- 
ship for a year would give Erie an oppor- 
tunity to see how the life suited him and yet 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


155 


not involve the labor of the entire practice 
all at once. _ 

This idea was welcomed by Erie. It seemed 
a legitimate excuse for returning. He would 
go uj) to St. George, the railroad station 
nearest the Duncan’s and Doctor Gold- 
waith’s, and discuss the subject with the 
doctor before he asked any questions or 
sought to see Marcia. 

He would ask a little tiine to think over 
the matter and then he would go over to the 
Duncan’s and see her. 

The old doctor was just coming out to his 
buggy as Erie walked up to the door. Put- 
ting both hands on Erie’s shoulders the doc- 
tor greeted him heartily, then turned back 
and led Erie out of the hot sun into the cool 
rooms within. ‘‘Thought you were on the 
other side. AVhen did you get back?” said 
he looking kindly at Erie. 

“ Yesterday, Doctor, and T came up to see 
if that partnership is still open.” 


156 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


Yes, indeed! AYhen an old man takes a 
fancy into his head, it is not easy to get rid 
of it again, and I have wished every day yon 
had stayed with me.” 

Well, Doctor, I think if yon want me I 
shall try the experiment! ” 

‘^All right, my boy; of conrse yon’ll spend 
the night with me and we’ll talk it over. I 
was going down to see a bad case, as yon 
came np, and it’s near the Dnncan’s; I sup- 
pose yon will be going there to call? We 
will have tea first, then yon can go along.” 

The house at which they called, half an 
honr later, was John Barrow’s, bnt Erie did 
not know it. 

His time for recreation, while at the Dnn- 
can’s had been so limited and liis walks had 
been so often alone, it very natnrally hap- 
pened that he knew nothing of the father of 
the man who had ronsed his jealonsy. Ho 
did not learn this nntil they were in the 
honse and Dr. Goldwaith said: “This way. 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


157 


pleasOj one moment. If you will excuse me. 
I will see how Mr. Barrow is and call you.” 
He showed Erie into a little low-ceiled room 
on the left of the small hallway and went 
across the two steps that measured the entry, 
as it was called, and softly opening a door 
opposite, went in and shut it after him. 

The room Erie was in was a parlor, but 
showed signs of being princiiDally cared for 
by men. Odds and ends, slipjDers and piles 
of old newspapers lay on a chair near the 
head of the long, black, haircloth sofa by the 
window, where it was evident some one was 
in the habit of lying to read. The shutters 
were all closed excepting at one of two front 
windows which opened upon the long, high 
porch, with a flight of wide steps leading 
down to the stone flags below. These were 
more or less covered by the droppings of 
buds, leaves, blossoms, and seeds from a 
gigantic balm-of-Gilead tree, which rose 
directly at the foot of the porch and towered 


158 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


up, overshadowing the little low house, 
making a picturesque place out of the small, 
plain, unassuming little farm house. It was 
set high on the side hill and the stone wall 
which terminated at the foot of it made a 
tempting corner in which to sit during the 
early evening. Presently Doctor Goldwaith 
came back and beckoning Erie to follow him, 
led him into the other room, where Mr. 
Barrow lay tossing in pain and delirium. 

He was a man of sixty, large and gray, and 
showing the ravages of disease. Over him 
bent Mark, trying to still his restless mean- 
ings. Mark turned and bowed as Erie came 
forward, but said nothing. 

Erie examined the invalid critically and 
then turned to Dr. Goldwaith. 

“Doctor,” he said, “one of us, you or I, 
must stay. I will do so if you like, he needs 
close watching.” 

“ Very well, I have something I must attend 
to first. You stay now and I will come later.” 


A womAn of to-day. 


159 


Then he went away, leaving these two to- 
getlier, whose hearts were so embittered 
against each other, to keep their silent watch. 

“ Marcia ! Marcia ! ” called Mr. Barrow. 
Mark endeavored to quiet him. He would 
have preferred that Dr. Goldwaith should 
bring any man but Erie just now to hear 
his father’s raving. 

Marcia, why did you go without coming 
to see me? ” 

‘^Father,” said Mark, hoping to quiet him, 
“Father, you know she had to go. Dr. 
Goldwaith sent her, she will come again be- 
fore long.” 

There was silence for a while, then the 
same sad call. Erie could only think that 
he had come too late; that Marcia already 
belonged to these men, and he thought, “ How 
can I bear it to lose her now ! ” The full 
force of her influence over him became ap- 
parent to him. 

He ran back over his intercourse with her 


160 


A WOMAK OF TO-DAY. 


from the first night he saw her. He began 
to feel again the’ charm of her bright presence, 
to feel her leading him np into her own 
world of love and peace. Again he felt her 
purity, her strength of purpose as she had 
revealed it to him in those afternoons on the 
rocks, especially that afternoon which had 
burned itself into his very being and he be- 
gan to know his own unworthiness of her. 
He saw that he might never hope to deserve 
her love, but all the more jjassionately he de- 
sired it. He wanted to tell her of this new 
worship for her which had come to him ; but 
he had put himself beyond the power of so 
doing. He had deliberately, cruelly, he now 
thought, repulsed her love, at a critical 
moment. He had flung her into the very 
arms of this man he knew nothing of; this 
man who might even now perhaps call her 
his own; who might be hating his presence 
because it prevented him from sending for 
her at once. 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


161 


Thus he tortured himself. He remem- 
bered how she had asked him if he had never 
known a love so strong it would give all it 
held dearest, if by so doing it could benelit 
the one he loved. He could hear his own 
answer now. How he had said to her, “I 
think I might feel a love like that some 
day.” Was his love really as strong as that 
now ? Could he give her up and be content 
with making himself worthy of her friend- 
ship only? 

He asked himself these questions, not wait- 
ing for the answers. And Mark, what could 
he do or say to tell Erie the truth ? He was 
ignorant of how matters stood between them 
and was afraid to say too much. Had the 
two men but known it. Hr. Goldwaith had 
taken matters into his own hands, and Marcia, 
'with Mrs. Lang, Mark’s aunt, was on her way 
to St. George, bringing with her both joy 
and sorrow. 

In the face of all the world’s philosophies 


162 


A WOMAN OF TO-BAY. 


these two elements go hand in hand, some- 
times strengthening, sometimes weakening 
the moral courage and making or marring 
the inner lives of most of God’s human 
creatures. That joy and sorrow which, with 
mystic power, plays upon the hidden sjorings 
of daily action in the lives of the masses, 
lives untouched in any direct way by the 
world of letters and urged only to a little 
stronger play of the emotions for good or 
evil by the reflex action of the same. 

This is a wonderful age to live in. One 
hundred years ago, who would have thought 
that on every seventh day, so large a propor- 
tion of the souls upon this globe would be 
occupied with the same thoughts, upon the 
same subject. And what is portended by 
this silent flashing of the light of the Holy 
Spirit into the hearts of an expectant, recep- 
tive humanity ? 

What does this coming of the gosj)el of 
regeneration, of love, of peace, to hungry, dis- 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


1C3 


satisfied, restless souls all over the world, 
mean ? 

Simply that, ere long, those that hunger 
shall be satisfied; they will no longer spend 
their labor for that which satisfieth not and 
their money for that which is not meat. 

Old people who thought years ago that 
their lives were past all change, suddenly 
seem to grow young again. They develop 
new ideas. 

One must speak thoughtfully of the 
American type. There is an individuality of 
character among Americans which is apt to 
lead one astray. 

I do not think that Marcia is of any pe- 
culiar type. She is only one among ten 
thousand, but she represents a phase of de- 
velopment which is not the less to be desired 
because it is becoming less rare. There was 
an effort in her life to balance the component 
parts of her nature. In other words, she 
strove to harmonize mind, spirit, and body. 


164 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


and get as even a life as was possible from 
the constantly recurring warfare between the 
intellectual, the spiritual and the material. 
Her nature was intense and earnest, but too 
well trained to reach extremes. The mental 
and spiritual perception of the highest good, 
as indicated by her in the lines written on 
that night of passionate farewell, brought her 
temporary rest but not permanent peace of 
mind. There is the systole and diastole of 
life as well as of the heart. Expansion and 
contraction, action and reaction, giving and 
receiving. 

Marcia emerged from the darkness of that 
night fresh and strong, and beautiful. It 
was because of the perception of what might 
await her, after faithful, patient years of 
endeavor; but after this expansion of her 
faculties to their widest, fullest point of 
tension, then the systole recurred; the con- 
tracting, the narrowing again of all that ful- 
ness of life. Then, following this, the more 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


165 


even running of the currents of thought and 
feeling. 

Mark and Erie were aroused at last from 
their silent vigil by the opening of the outer 
door. As they turned, Marcia entered the 
outer room. 

Erie drew back into the shadow, a flood of 
opposing inclinations playing with his self- 
possession, as the wind plays with a leaf in 
a storm. Mark, with a sigh of relief, went 
out to greet her, as she advanced slowly 
toward the open Are on the hearth, which 
had been the one bright and shining feature 
of the little sitting room and the sight of 
which had made Erie happier, lending a tinge 
of hopefulness even to the past hours of un- 
happy musing. 

“ Who sent for you, Marcia ? ” Erie heard 
Mark say. 

“ Doctor Goldwaith. Mr. Duncan is here 
with me. He has gone to speak to O’Neal 
and his wife.” 


166 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


Mark knew Marcia was out of Erie’s sight, 
as she now sat in a low chair by the fire, and 
looking down at her, he said in a low tone : 

“ Do you know that Doctor Erie is here ? ” 
pointing to the little inner room. 

Oh ! that sudden glad opening of the eyes, 
that happy quickening of the breath. 

“Here?” 

Mark saw the hope spring up anew, which, 
generous as he was, was pain to him, but he 
left her there and went in to Erie. 

He only motioned silently toward the 
outer room, and as Erie rose, took his place. 
Erie did not go out at once. He stood, think- 
ing deeply, trying to master himself, before 
meeting those eyes. It was hard that he 
must go out to her in this uncertainty, not 
knowing his relation toward her; not dar- 
ing to speak until he did, and not able to 
speak as he would were they entirely alone. 
Had he not hesitated for this short moment 
his misery must have ended with one look 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


167 


into Marcia’s eyes, but before he reached her, 
Marcia, impatient at his delay, too proud to 
linger and hearing the low cry of the sick 
man, entered the room. 

She bowed to him as Mark had done, ex- 
tending her hand in silence and then bent 
over the bed. 

“ Mr. Barrow, I am here. Do you know 
me ? I have come to help nurse you.” 

Mr. Barrow smiled faintly and at the cool 
touch of Marcia’s hand upon his forehead 
seemed to grow quieter at once. 

Erie was now free to take a few moments of 
rest. Mr. Duncan was coming in. He would 
go out and explain his presence to him. He 
sat down in front of the fire in the outer 
room, and waited. Had he been free to es- 
cape, which he was not, until Dr. Goldwaith 
returned, Erie would very likely have done 
so. And yet perhaps not, for Marcia’s pres- 
ence in the house had a fascination for him 
in spite of the coolness with which she had 


1G8 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


greeted him. Marcia, in the reaction of her 
first strong emotion, had already determined 
to await events. The sad desolation of the 
present had been npon her when she entered. 
Erie was always near her in thought, but this 
only served to make the separation harder. 

However calm might be her face and man- 
ner they were so only from pride. Within, 
all was wild confusion. She had no philoso- 
phic thought to steady her; she was simply 
a very human, loving woman, glad,^and hurt, 
and sorry all together, and crushing all ex- 
pression of her emotions down with iron 
pride. 

She stood blindly trying to see the fea- 
tures of the man before her. All was black. 
She would not swerve or falter, she would 
wait there for her self-con!rol to return 
again, and she forced her body into mechani- 
cal action, taking Mr. Barrow’s hand and 
stroking it with hers, all the wliile conscious 
only of gaining time to understand it all. 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


169 


Mr. Duncan had come and was talking to 
Erie, insisting upon his going home with 
him. Then she heard Dr. Goldwaith’s voice 
and then another’s and still she seemed 
asleep. 

Then Dr. Goldwaith came in and beckoned 
her to come to him, but Mark had to tell her 
she was wanted before she moved. She went 
to the old doctor, who had been her friend so 
long. 

He is quiet now. I see Mrs. Lang is here. 
I will go now and come again to-morrow,” 
she whispered. 

Not a word more, but Dr. Goldwaith let her 
go. 

“ Shall we go now ? ” she said to Mr. Dun- 
can. He touched Erie on the shoulder and 
said: “Come.” Erie arose and went in to 
Dr. Goldwaith, while Marcia put on her hat. 

“ If you do not need me any more to-night 
I will go home with Mr. Duncan,” he said. 

The Doctor nodded in reply, and when 


170 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


Erie returned to the outer room Marcia had 
gone. He stepped to the door and at some 
distance he could see a slight figure before 
them. Erie turned to Mr. Duncan, a pained, 
inquiring look in his face, but Mr. Duncan 
had no explanation to offer. Marcia had felt 
that she could not face him again now. The 
sting of that delay had taxed her self-control 
too far. Once she stopped, realizing how 
strange her action must seem to Mr. Duncan. 

Oh! could she have known the cause of 
that delay ! Then she fied on hastily again, 
not stopping to look back until she reached 
the house. 

She opened that same low door where she 
and Erie had entered after that night’s 
drive, and closed it softly behind her. One 
moment she hesitated as she recalled his 
words of tenderness, then she hurried on and 
turned aside into the music room where she 
had left Hester inlaying, an hour ago. She 
was reading by a soft, shaded light near the 


A WOMAN OF T0-DA7. 


171 


lire, when Marcia entered. The softened light, 
with a faint glow, shone through the rose- 
tinted shade and brought into relief the little 
old-fashioned j^iano, across the corner of the 
room, which had given place practically to 
the newer upright, now oi:>en, and on which 
Hester’s music yet stood. 

The usual supply of wild flowers which 
these people, both men and women, were 
always bringing in from their walks, were 
piled upon the unused instrument. 

Pausing only to tell Hester that Erie was 
with Mr. Duncan, Marcia passed out into the 
square hall and ran up the low, broad stairs, 
stopping for a moment at the first landing 
where another mass of wild flowers filled a 
niche in the wall. She bent eagerly forward 
to listen for a sound of that voice which had 
so overcome her a short time before. There 
was no sound but the slow dull ticking of 
the high clock in the hall below. Just so had 
its giant pendulum beat out the seconds as 


172 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


drama after drama had been enacted within 
that old house in years gone by. 

The old moon, looking through the dial 
had smiled long years ago upon another girl- 
ish figure, bending to listen from that very 
spot where Marcia was standing now. 

A tall, graceful, beautiful young creature, 
with silky brown locks curling exquisitely, 
as they strayed from the tortoise-shell comb 
and fell ui)on her forehead and neck. Her 
slender foot had pressed the very step that 
]\Iarcia’s rested on now, but her face, spark- 
ling with mischievous laughter, had bent to 
catch the tones of a stranger’s voice. 

The afternoon sunlight played over her 
three sisters spinning and chatting merrily in 
the hall below. Outside the door, with its 
lower half still shut, stood the stranger, a 
straight, well formed and handsome man, 
with dark curls as silky as her own, as bright 
a color in his cheeks, as merry a twinkle in 
his eye. 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


173 


He was just out of lier sight and was mak- 
ing his errand known to the three maids be- 
fore him. They had been warned against 
listening to that manly voice. 

The young officer’s luxurious habits had 
been pictured to them, only to excite new in- 
terest. And now he had come, on some mis- 
sion, from his own acres, not far away, and 
was begging attention. 

She wondered if he Avore his gold laced 
uniform, and if those stupid sisters would 
forget to ask him in ? 

Then she felt a spirit of mischief taking 
possession of her and pushing her onward. 
Lightly she tripped down the broad stairs 
and, full of charming witchery, slipped the 
bands upon each Avheel as she fled past them, 
and turning with a mocking little courtesy, 
as she reached the further door, flashed such 
a glance upon the handsome young Captain 
that he loved her even before he fully realized 
that she had come and gone. But even that 


174 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


love, true, and sweet, and lasting, liad not 
flowed smoothly. Mischief had sobered into 
earnest impulse ; had been tested by princi- 
ple, and the loving maiden with the devotion 
of friendship, had kept her faith and almost 
lost her lover just as Marcia had done. 

But he had returned at last and had grown 
up to her standard and she had said to him 
“ Yes ” and they had lived and Avorked hap- 
pily together. 

Now Marcia heard the voice she waited for 
and hastening to her room flung herself upon 
her bed, with convulsive sobs. 

Oh! the strange heart of woman, fainting 
for the comfort of one kind word, yet with- 
holding that smile which would insure it. 

Hester, quickened by the glad surprise of 
seeing Erie again, rose as the men entered, 
and full of a gracious welcome, stood smiling 
upon him as he approached. There was that 
exquisite grace in her manner which in its 
attractiveness far exceeds mere beauty, and 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


175 


which American women sometimes attain, 
but rarely. 

Erie, who had only seen her pale and worn 
upon her sick-bed, was surprised to see the 
happy smiling woman before him, who was 
saying: 

“Doctor Erie, I am so glad, so happy 
to welcome you. Look at me! See what 
you have done for me and measure your 
welcome by the evidence I give of good 
health.” 

Erie smiled and bowed over her hand say- 
ing: “I did not know so hearty a welcome 
was ever possible for mortals.” 

“ Surely you do not think there is no such 
thing as gratitude in the world. Doctor ? ” 

“ Very little, that is as genuine as yours, 
I fear,” he answered, still admiring the fresh, 
cheerful face before him. 

“ Harry, tell him again we are glad to see 
him,” said Hester as they were parting for 
the night. 


176 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


And there was no mistaking the tone in 
which Harry Dnncan answered. 

“I guess IVe made him understand; if 
not, I’ll begin again to-morrow.” 

Once in his old room, Erie felt like a differ- 
ent man from the one he had been a few 
hours before. 

It was impossible not to see that he was at 
home in this house and welcome to these two, 
at least. As for his questioning of Marcia, 
it had vanished like an unpleasant dream. 
He had felt a strange elation taking posses- 
sion of him on entering the house. Perhaps 
it was an intuitive feeling that things would 
adjust themselves in this atmosphere. 

Marcia, once alone, found that the whirl- 
wind of emotions in which she had been 
caught had thrown her down from the calm 
heights on which she had expected to stand 
in her intercourse with Erie. And strive as 
she would she could not attain to them 
again, at once. 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


177 


She entered the breakfast room next morn- 
ing with a forced composure which chilled 
Erie’s new confidence and led him to won- 
der whether he had done wisely in coming 
back. 

Mr. Barrow was out of danger; Mark had 
gone back to his business and Marcia and 
Erie, swayed, as yet, by impulse and that un- 
reasoning instinct which so often leads us 
aright, though blindly, had tacitly agreed to 
continue in the existing attitude, each feel- 
ing a return of hope once more, since they 
were beneath the same roof. Any hour 
might bring the adjustment both so longed 
for. 

Before Mark went away, Marcia and he 
had met for a few moments in the little par- 
lor across the hallway. By a few touches, 
Marcia had transformed the bare little room 
into a bright, cheery spot, and flowers rose 
high, from a quaint old jar of dark stone- 
ware, against the bare white wall, and books 


178 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


and papers lay on the table, which was drawn 
out into the room, and the sofa had been 
placed opposite the open iireplace, away from 
the windows, where easy cliairs now stood. 
Thus in a few moments the refinement of the 
woman’s nature had come in and shown how 
bare had been the life of the household with- 
out it. 

Mark had stood there in the twilight just 
before going and had said to her: 

You shall not have all your trouble with 
me for nothing, Marcia. I am going to give 
you somethiDg, in return for all you have 
suffered through your friendship for me. I 
am going to let right living and better 
thoughts prove my gratitude.” 

Mark! I am so happy now. This — 
this is worth it all.” 

The simplicity of Marcia’s nature was such 
that she made no attempt at concealing the 
sacrifice she had made, when she saw it rec- 
ognized thus by Mark. Though to have first 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


179 


revealed it to him would have been an im- 
possibility for her. 

As she stood, her hands clasped before her, 
all the old tempting brilliancy of the girl re- 
turned and for a moment seemed to mock 
his purpose, so great was the temptation to 
pass the bounds she had set to his love, and 
which he had accepted and intended to abide 
by. But the next moment the sense of the 
purity of her love for him checked him, and 
never before had the beautiful strength of 
this woman’s character so asserted itself as 
now, when bestowing on one lover all the in- 
tense passion of her nature, she yet appeased, 
and almost satisfied, with the divine enthu- 
siasm of her friendship, the other. 

Marcia’s happiness in this victory over the 
powers which had so desperately beset the 
soul of one she loved, was sufficient to sug- 
gest to her that Erie would return to the old 
relation; he must recognize and seek her 
better self. He must not expect her to lower 


180 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


her standard of the ideal, even for his love. 
And Erie was seeking with his whole heart 
to touch the ground on which she stood. He 
might not walk beside her as her husband 
but beside her he must be if only as her 
friend. 

So time went on. More than a week had 
passed and yet Erie had not dared to offer 
himself anew to Marcia. 

The house and the neighborhood was full 
of guests. Paul Hodaviah Crandle, the 
young artist; Edmund Oldstory; Rev. Dr. 
Dean and his wife and Dr. Keen, a professor 
in a college, where he held an enviable place in 
the hearts of all; a young poet and a charm- 
ing girl who had been christened by one of 
the children “ The Beautiful Lady.” 

There had been much delightful inter- 
course between the friends, and Erie found 
himself suddenly lifted by his late struggle 
into complete sympathy with a new world of 
ideas. 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


181 


Heart and brain had passed beyond all the 
old landmarks, and he saw in himself a new, 
a better man. 

As Erie entered the breakfast room, one 
morning, he found an animated discussion 
waging over the coffee. It was the day the 
Duncans were to give a lawn party, with 
music and dancing in the evening. As the 
door opened, Marcia exclaimed: 

“ Oh! Dr. Erie, you are just in time, I need 
some one to support my cause. Come — you 
know you are an idealist.” 

‘‘Oh, no!” he replied; “you mistake, I 
am not an idealist. I am intensely practi- 
cal.” 

“ Yes,” said Marcia, “ I anticipated your 
denying it, and I know why you do so. ’Tis 
because you are like the school boy who 
always proves his sum backward. The ideal 
is the highest truth and must have a real 
practical outcome or it is not a truth at 
all.” 


1^2 


A WOMAN OF TO-DA"?. 


“ Do you know, Miss Marcia,” said Edmund 
Oldstory, laughing, “ that you fail to agree 
with the great majority which makes the real 
and ideal totally apart; one fancy, the other 
fact. Do you know that the great majority 
would credit you with insanity. I can put 
my finger on a passage from the pen of a 
college president to corroborate me. It hap- 
pens to be handy and he is considered good 
authority.” 

“Oh, no! Don’t trouble yourself. I am 
not affected by the opinion of a college presi- 
dent any more than by that of a professor or 
a tutor.” 

“ Do you mean to suggest a new philoso- 
phy, Miss Marcia,” said Hodaviah Crandle, 
turning his strong, sweet face to hers. 

“ Philosophy 1 ” she repeated. “ That word 
must include a science of the harmony of 
truth, before it will apply to my philosophy.” 

“ Ah,” he said, “ nowhere else in the world 
is there the slightest hope for it. America 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


183 


being barren of any philosophy of her own, 
has at last the opportunity for it.” 

“ Take care how you talk of America and 
philosophy,” interrupted Hester. Hr. Keen 
is present, and don’t you know that he is an 
authority on the subject ? He has set all 
Europe agog and actually made the Germans 
enthusiastic over his work on philosophy. 
Think of that glory for America.” 

Yes, I know it,” said Marcia; ^‘but what 
greater proof of our love can he ask than to 
find that we are forever losing the great 
scholar in the good man ? ” And she looked 
up at him so ingenuously that his face lit up 
with an indulgent smile, and the dark eyes 
beamed beneath the heavy brows. One could 
tell that the corners of the mouth relaxed 
their gravity beneath the iron gray mustache 
as he stroked his beard sagely like the phil- 
osoi3her that he was. No word was spoken 
for a moment. 

“ ^ I am the truth, the way and the life,’ ” 


184 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


said Dr. Dean at last. But he looked up at 
Marcia’s glowing face with a growing un- 
easiness in his heart. 

What did it mean that young women 
should be so nearly abreast with men like 
himself in seeing and uttering the truth ? 
Were men to lose the leadership by-and-by ? 

Edmund Oldstory, watching the good man 
keenly, saw the thought flash across his mind 
and he uttered it. 

“ I know what you are thinking, Doctor, 
and I don’t know how we are to help our- 
selves,” he added a little maliciously. 

“You wonder if they will take all our 
honors away from us. They are running us 
so very closely.” 

Hodaviah turned to Marcia again. “ If you 
have thought thus far, you have gone further. 
What will it be ? ” 

“ Ask me no more,” she said. “ The only 
one who has a right to speak keeps silence.” 

“ Perhaps I can interpret his thought,” 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


185 


said Hester as she seated herself opposite Dr. 
Keen. It is that he feels the only philoso- 
phy which can better the world is the phil- 
osophy of the spirit and Christ ; and that it 
must germinate in oiir hearts before we can 
attain to any clear mental perception of it. 
Am I right ? ” And she glanced lovingly up 
at the man whose heart she felt she knew. 

“ Yes, you understand,’' he said, and rising 
put an end to the discussion. 

As they moved away the poet appeared in 
the doorway. 

“ My greeting to you, sir,” laughed a friend 
of Marcia’s, Jeanie Carleton, a bright-faced 
girl of twenty -two. Have the Muses given 
you a recess? Are you at liberty to remain 
away from them and among us mortals long 
enough to accept of a little earthly cheer ? ” 

Very deliberately the poet took his seat by 
the side of Mrs. Duncan, who had returned 
to the coffee urn as she saw him approach. 
Then he slowly turned an expressive counte- 


186 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


nance full of mock reproach upon the aggres- 
sive maiden. 

‘‘Miss Jeanie, I do not deserve this out- 
burst of jealousy, I am hardly on speaking 
terms with the Muses, owing to my fealty to 
you.” 

“Hear! Hear!” cried Edmund Oldstory. 

“Peace, my children,” commanded Hester; 
but Miss Jeanie would not lose the last word, 
and as she fled upstairs she retorted: “We 
often get more than we deserve, down here.” 

The preparations tor the evening, the dec- 
oration of the house with flowers, enlisted the 
volunteer service of the guests, and with a 
general air of good humor pervading the 
household, all hands were busy. 

“ Miss Jeanie needs some help I fancy,” said 
Hestet to Paul ; “ she has gone to hang the 
portiers Edmund has painted for the Soutli 
and West rooms.” 

Paul followed Miss Carleton, and Hester 
said to the “Beautiful Lady:” “Madeline, if 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


187 


you and Dr. Erie will adjourn to the gar- 
den and gather some flowers, I will join yon 
later.” 

Marcia drew a stand before Edninnd Old- 
story and put a vase upon it with an armful 
of flowers. 

‘‘Master of ceremonies, allow me to pro- 
vide you with an occupation,” she said laugh- 
ingly and went to gather more blossoms. 

Edmund, leaning back upon the sofa 
cushions smiled contentedly. His lameness 
often caused him great pain, and could never 
be ignored for more than a short time, yet it 
never seemed to affect his bright spirits. 

“ Ah ! Here comes one of the terriers,” he 
exclaimed, a moment later. 

“ A terrier ? ” said Hester. “ Is it black ? ” 

“No, white, madame.” 

And leaning forward he called: “Here, 
Ted, come in and tell your mother what 
cousin Paul called you children last night.” 

His little namesake, a boy of five, came in 


188 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


with his hands full of daisies and put them 
down before Edmund. 

Marcia said you were to have them.” 

Yes, but tell your mother what you and 
Gretchen are.” 

‘‘Holy terriers, mamma; cousin Paul says 
so.” 

Hester broke into a peal of laughter and 
remarked to the poet, who was studying the 
child’s face, an amused expression in his 
own: 

“To think that my children should be 
called terrors.” 

She kissed the boy fondly and sent him to 
look for Gretchen. 

“ Edmund, you and Paul will sj^oil those 
children, if spoiled they can be,” she said 
with a pretty reservation, “ for you don’t 
seem to care what you say to them.” 

“ Gretchen assured me yesterday ‘ I’m Mr. 
Edmund’s beautiful angel, Avith the heavenly 
eyes^ — he says so — ’ if you can reconcile 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


189 


‘heavenly angels’ and ‘terriers’ it is more 
than my ideas of Paradise will allow.” 

Here Marcia returned with her hands full 
of flowers and the poet rose and joined in the 
work of arranging them. All aided in the 
decorations^ and sometimes it would be Erie 
and Miss Jeanie, or Erie and the Beautiful 
Lady, who found themselves together in the 
garden or in some corner which was being 
transformed into a sylvan bower, but never 
by any chance was it Erie and Marcia. 

The poet had been gracefully attentive to 
Marcia. Erie began to think his admiration 
was taking a serious aspect, for he detected 
an unusual desire on his part to make him- 
self useful and an evident reluctance at being 
separated from Marcia, as she went to and 
fro between the garden and the house. 

Erie had watched Marcia’s manner jeal- 
ously, but from a distance, and she had not 
noticed his surveillance, and as yet he had 
seen no sign, however trivial, to make him 


]90 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


lliink the poet held more than the place of a 
friend in Marcia’s thoughts. 

He was still confirmed in the mistaken idea 
that Mark was first in her heart. But at 
last he fancied he saw more than the usual 
ingenuous kindness in Marcia’s tone and 
look. 

Hodaviah Crandle and Mrs. Dean had de- 
clared that more moss was needed for the 
miniature bank of ferns upon which they 
were busy, and the poet had said “ Oh, Miss 
Marcia and I know where to get it ! ” Then 
to Marcia he had said quietly: “You wiU 
come ” 

She had nodded an assent and together 
they had gone away, laughing like two 
children, lightly swinging a basket between 
them. Erie heard Marcia say, as they went 
down the path : 

“ The preparations are as pleasant as the 
affair itself will be, are they not ? ” 

“Oh, I hope not,” the poet replied. “I 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


191 


beg you will not forget that the first waltz is 
mine; you promised it, you know.” 

It was this suggestion of a previous under- 
taking which stung Erie. He had been con- 
tent to serve out his penance silently and 
patiently while he thought that it was Mark 
who was between them. 

But surely Marcia must begin to know 
why he was back there, and if Mark no 
longer held her love she might find some way 
to let him know; while Marcia began to 
think that if he still loved her he should be 
the first to take some decided way to tell her 
so. 

As for the poet, he had an insight into 
the hearts of these two, and fancied a little! 
action on his part might bring things to a| 
crisis. He was attracted toward Marcia and 

! 

took good care that she never felt he ex- 
ceeded the bounds of mere good fellowship, 
while his manner was calculated to make a 
very different impression upon outsiders, 


192 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


This little side scene embittered the day 
for Erie. He grew coldly cynical in manner 
and speech, and became useless in the little 
services demanded of him, because of his 
preoccupation of mind. In the early evening 
he drifted into the library, where the older 
men were discussing serious questions, but 
he could not forget this new pain, this new 
doubt in his heart, and talk as he would, he 
found himself listening for the one voice 
which was music to his ears. 

Marcia stopped at the door as she was pass- 
ing, just in time to hear his last remark to 
Dr. Dean. He would not have made it in 
that bitter tone if he had known she was 
there. He had said: 

“Dr. Dean, you clergymen must learn to 
come closer to the every-day needs of the 
souls you would save before the kingdom of 
Heaven comes on the earth. You must com- 
fort the hungry hearts oftener and let the 
minds alone. There must be some great 


A WOMAN" OF TO-DAY. 


193 


change in your methods of feeding the hun- 
gry before you get down to the level of the 
daily needs and temptations of the average 
man, and are able to show him how to meet, 
resist and overcome evil with good, and that 
is the method which will do the work of re- 
generating this world.” 

He had turned as he finished and saw her 
standing there. His eyes had met hers 
almost defiantly for a second. Then her lids 
dropped and she moved away. Her look 
had been a searching one and Erie felt over- 
whelmed with remorse that he should have 
allowed himself that bitter moment. Yet 
there was only plain truth in what he had 
said, though he had spoken it bitterly. If 
more men knew how to touch the “ heart of 
man ” as Mr. Perry had done in those never- 
to-be-forgotten words, on board the vessel, 
then many men who were indifferent would 
begin to see and understand. 

Leaving the library, Erie went into the 


194 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


room where they had been dancing and talk- 
ing to one another, not remembering what he 
said a moment after it was spoken, and striv- 
ing in vain to keep his eyes and thoughts 
from her whose manner so bewildered him. 
He had watched her dancing, rather too fre- 
quently, he thought, with the poet and he 
knew she was unusually beautiful. 

Her dress was some soft gray fabric, with 
an effect of silver here and there, and her 
flushed cheeks seemed to have caught their 
color from the great cluster of nodding car- 
nations at her waist. She did not seem 
happy, and he longed to feel the touch of her 
hand upon his arm. 

She was coming down the broad stairs in 
her stately way and he hastened to meet her. 

“ Marcia, shall patience be rewarded ? Will 
you dance with me this time ? ” 

She smiled her consent, and for a few 
moments Erie gave himself up to the one. 
thought that his arm was about her. He 


A WOMA^^' OF TO-DAY. 


195 


tried to imagine that nothing had happened, 
that they were the same as of yore. Marcia, 
too, was thinking in very much the same 
vein, and before they realized it, the music 
ceased and not a word had been spoken. He 
led her to a seat, just as Paul claimed her 
for the next dance, and the evening held 
nothing more of pleasure for him after that. 
Unnoticed, he sauntered out into the garden 
and lit a cigar. 

After the guests were gone, Paul and he 
stood for a moment in the deserted parlor. 

“ Erie,” said Paul, rather abruptly, “ what 
is the matter with Marcia ? She is preoc- 
cupied and altogether unlike herself. What 
have you people been doing to her down 
here ? ” 

Erie answered, “I am hardly the one to 
ask. I had fancied her perfectly happy since 
Mr. Barrow’s recovery.” 

‘‘Why, what has that to do with her?” 
said Paul in astonishment. 


196 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


You should know better than I,” replied 
Erie. 

Well, I don’t; but I know some one else 
wlio is changed, quite as much as Marcia; 
and I tell you, old boy, I don’t like it.” 

“ Hajjpiness usually proves a good tonic,” 
said Erie, without attempting to hide the 
bitterness of his feeling. 

The supply of tonic is sadly lacking, 
then, I should judge,” said Paul, looking up 
frankly at Erie. 

‘‘ If I could only believe that were true ! ” 
said Erie, starting to leave the room. 

“ I tell you that it is,” said Paul, detaining 
him ; and noAV I think you had better take 
steps toward securing a comfortable night’s 
rest. Marcia is waiting to see me in the 
other room,' but she will forgive me if I say 
good night through you.” 

Erie understood him. He looked in his 
eyes for a moment, then took his hand and 
pressed it earnestly. 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


197 


Paul left the room, and for an instant Erie 
stood irresolute. He could not bring himself 
to humble his pride with no encouragement 
at all from Marcia. He had hoped to win her 
back to an understanding without putting 
his repentance into words. But this crucial 
test of his love was not to be spared him. 

He passed slowly through the rooms until 
he reached the one in which he had taken 
Marcia in his arms for that brief moment at 
their first arrival. 

Marcia, exi)ecting Paul, did not turn her 
head. Her feet, in their dainty slippers, 
were stretched toward the fire of logs, for the 
evening was chilly, and she half reclined in 
the corner of the old-fashioned lounge which 
had been drawn up before the fireplace. 

‘^Paul,” she said, and she reached ner 
liands back over her head, “ stand there while 
I tell you something.” 

Erie felt his heart beating wildly. He 
took her hands saying: 


198 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


“ It is I, Marcia, not Paul ; will you listen 
while I tell you something ? ” 

She did not withdraw her hands, and 
Erie bent over her saying: 

“Marcia, is your heart closed to me for- 
ever ? Has a single error closed against me 
the gates of happiness which once seemed 
opening for me ? Marcia, tell me, have I re- 
turned in vain ? Has my penitence come too 
late ? ” 

The flames blazed up suddenly from the 
logs on the hearth, and lit up her face show- 
ing the tears which had gathered in her eyes 
while he was speaking. 

Erie misconstrued the tears and prepared 
himself to consummate the sacrifice of his 
own hopes. 

“ Your life, Marcia,” he continued, his face 
pale with suppressed emotion, “is bringing 
the fulfilment you foretold ; you are making 
people better and happier, are you happy 
yourself ? ” 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


199 


“Happy?” she repeated with a sigh. 

“Yes, happy as yon were when I first 
came to know you and — love you,” said Erie. 

Marcia’s eyes sought his inquiringly, 
almost searchingly. 

“ Did you love me, Erie ? ” 

“ Marcia, I loved you then, I love you now, 
shall always love you, whatever may be its 
return.” 

“O Erie! If you would but understand 
me,” said Marcia, rising and impetuously 
placing both her hands in his. Her action 
rather than her words fiooded Erie’s soul with 
a radiant hope and joy. 

“ I understand you better now,” he said, 
tenderly leaning over to look into her eyes. 

She met his look saying: “ You think you 
understand me, yet you do not trust me ? ” 

The yearning cry of her soul seemed speak- 
ing through her eyes to the heart of the man 
before her. 

“ I trust you, my darling, now and forever, 
wholly, completely, utterly.” 


200 


A WOMAN OF TO-DAY. 


His strong arms drew her, trembling, close 
to his breast. Her head nestled against him 

t 

like that of a weary child. Their lips met, 
and all the pain, the doubt and misery of 
those weeks and months took liight like 
clouds before the morning sun. 

Gently leading her to the lounge, Erie 
seated himself beside her, and there, in that 
dimly lighted room, told her the story of his 
love and the new life which had dawned for 
him, while Marcia listened, filled with the 
delight which only they that are pure in 
heart can know. The last few embers were 
smouldering on the hearth when Erie arose 
and taking her once more close to his breast 
said: 

“ You have taught me my lesson, my dar- 
ling, I am ready to work for the divine.” 

He kissed her eyelids, almost reverently, 
then holding her face between his hands 
looked steadily into her eyes as he asked: 

Marcia, what words will you give me, to 
fill my dreams to-night ? ” 


A WOMAN" OF TO-DAY. 


201 


“ These, Erie,” she said: ‘‘ that I love you, 
have loved you through all, shall always love 
you.” 

The last word was lost iu their good-night. 
The last spark was dead upon the hearth, 
but a new life would dawn upon the morrow. 

Light had come from the darkness and out 

of the trial had come that peace which 

passeth all understanding. 

***** 

As time goes by, he who runs may read 
the story of these two. 

It is written in the hearts of those by whom 
they are surrounded. To the sick and sorry 
come help and cheer. To the unseeing 
comes a new light. Love groAvs in the stead 
of hate, and peace in the place of dissension. 
The dreams of the morning have become the 
reality of the day. 


THE END. 







\ 


>■ n. ' 













I 


/ 





t 

i 

al 

% 

< < 



% 




^•1 


« 

t ■* 






‘ • * 




t » 

I 


«> 


A* 


, J\ 


« fl 




.Tl* 



✓ 




I •• 

• . • 

— ^ 


I 


f 


y 



L» \ -= 


, , ¥ 






■v'r. 




l'* * 

' - • -1 




A 


- ^ 

^ • 




■- •;• ■ .. 

'•• - 


V • 


•i- 





fl • 




^ z 


4 • 






' r 






<^^"£ 






j- 




;?»A' 










w 




♦ 


r/ 4 ’ 






c . ' -,■'«? 


iu 






w • 1 






> 


vr>v 








»■ =•' 




-;m. 








’I *» 


^ r f 


^y 


Lh 


iJ 




' -. ‘H. 


» r* 




■r\, 


9 »^< 


« -rf 


\ir 


IB 






\i 


jM- 




' .' 2 * 


1^. 


% i. 




k •, 


, . j- ;>. ^ 




<- 




u 


C'' ^ f 


_ ^ f - •“ ^ 

-u i 

I . » A 




•<* 


** if'* 




\i»l 


' •* > 




^ VI 






.V r 


V # 


'■ \ ir 

fc A^/' 


rt 






klK: 


"i 




!f* 


''"i ^ 

«,:A^^>jS|fq &’-. f V-'ii 

^.r V ' ./*.*• .''^- 

■' 'V. . 

V , ■ - ^ - • ' > 

*\ k - •' %<• ^ ' 

v^ 


v.> 


flJJ’ 


;r 






ti**- 


^^1 




^■ii 












1 / 


:rt^- 


T* «' 




tf-‘; 


Vil 


- "I r I 


:sA 


pi^ •■ 









As there is no SIMPLE TEST by which adulterate 
soaps can be detected, the SAFE COURSE is to purchas 
only those soaps which bear the name of a long-establishe 
and reliable house. SINCE 1806 Colgate & Co. have mad 
only the best of articles ; as a result, their toilet soaps an< 
perfumes are sold in ALL PARTS OP THE CIVILIZEI 
WORLD, and are everywhere acknowledged to be th< 
STANDARD for purity and excellence. The toilet soap an< 
handkerchief perfume held in highest esteem by the Americai 
public is CASHMERE BOUQUET , and over 30 first award? 
testify that they are ‘^Mqp^aled inequality and perfume.” 



0 « \ 




,0 




rO ^ 


v\ /' s 

c 0 ^ ^ ' 

*:^ A ,-ss\\\w ^ 

vO q. >. ^ 

^ ^r:yV7/^ ^ ^ 

O* ^hiA* •v’^^ ^ -in aO" 

''/. ^ .0^ ^ 0 





.0 o 



^ 'I * 0 





q^ fAV . <t ^ 



'C' 

at aV 

^'r- .s 

<- *■'0 , X 

.0^' , <t ^ ‘ ^ 

, o 0^ » ■" ^ V 




<x^^‘ 






8 1 


v'^ 

.\ H. 

: 

.0 C> ^ 

A ^'jA'^^Al ^ '^'r. A' 

c.^ - .. ^M.//h. o ^ o 

'\ O ' .S 

^ \ _ Vf . * A A *> 




^v - 











^ ^ V => 




A' 



^ 0 9 y 




^ ts- * ^ \ ' B jb 

.0^ ^ 


o. 



z 


“o 




■%. . , 






^ ’■ *^ 65. J9 

'y^ ^ * 




-V ^,p> <v 









^ ff 1 A AjC^ 

^ ^ . V . S » 0 / 




_ O N 0 ’ ^0 

<> A 0 ^ ^ 

^ A 


uC 

A. ^ 



t: 

Z 


7 . 







■ \ O / c S 

^ • 4 ^ 

,1JL^ 

4* 

(^. /. O * ^ y 

" ^■' '■"^ 1 ( 4 ^"^ '' -Jy^ '*■ ' 

• * KS ay y 

i. .V.^ -> f? .-i 0 

> ^ 


9^ ^ ^ * 0 /■ "c^ 




^ 0 N 0 ^ 

V .0 


* 'K< 4' 

1 S^ 


A : -^ >• 

A"'- % ”' 

A‘> ^ 






